Poetry__
“i don’t miss you”
I was near Rotes Rathaus
where the wind feels like
it has been chilled in a refrigerator for years
Do you really wanna remove your uterus?
i heard your news from whale’s tears
salty sighs swell the sponge of longing
then tighten the skin of my soul again...
oh, sanity, the little evil thing i was proud of, was long gone
feint and counter feint
ears become the judge, cables eat me
you found nothing
the vibe of Christmas makes me jealous
those bucketfuls of happiness, happiness
you always say, just Love life more than the meaning of life
will i get drunk before drinking again tonight?
yes, i used to hang burgundy string lights in my basement shed
the vines of nostalgia
climbed all over the mountain
made in Berlin, deliberately disappearred sucks
faded red is everywhere
one side is imaginative and the other is crawling dark
i guess you don't believe in horoscopes
or a passionate myth
don't i know you are an illusion for all these years!
a mirage of eternal destruction i fall into
the fragrance of spinal fusion i breathe into
the trickling streams flow from the mountaintop i rush into bubbling inside bears, resting near St. Nikolaikirche
steaming, in sighs
so i arrest someone on purpose
she dresses too plainly and wants to have a baby
who allowed her to pin the iris behind her ears?
i prefer your impulsiveness and clumsiness
choke when putting on the cold bloody airs
trembling the outline of my soul
deepening the feelings from my sea
surfacing little by little
You can't even hear, the whale
the turbulent longing is beaten to death
by the obstacle fire inside my shirt
frozen a paranoid flame outside your skirt
to be honest, I don’t like the moment
you blew dry her wet hair and murmured
how about selling blue irises on the other side?
take out the stems, refrigerate
for beer sipping
you are with police officers at Rotes Rathaus
tucked the iris behind my left
ears just want to be closer to the world
closer to the mole on your nose
secret is
i am playing Callisto in a theater these daysyou scrawling, exuberant artist
a dark arrow hidden in the lens
i offer you a soft cherry
an empty chest and cheap tears worth 91 marks
whale opens a new shop selling...
You found nothing