my breath is nova
exploding
between limited walls of
crushed hopes
within my
eyes i am constructing
bridges of splintered photons
old pictures of you
my Cassiopeia
beyond the dreaming
under your breath
with all my books, my dead poets, my romantic endings
wide open.
dripping from your lips
promises in silk yves saint laurent lingerie
the walls are melting
and all the painted
schwärze, ruß, glockengeläut
kranke sonnenstrahlen nippen an der titte
der
begrabenen
errinerungen
raben fragen
sagen
\"was ein fest!\"
der mensch verblasst
verkalkt
wird
kreide
\"den
Jede Suche beginnt mit einer Frage.
Von außen nach innen, weil wir das ,was wir spüren/fühlen, zu sehen versuchen, weil wir das, was sensorisch, metaphysisch, durch unsere atomisch-tangentiale
touched by melted synapses
of an ordinary, afternoon Sol,
long fingers of oily, dusty crimson
converting space and time
in memories
of
trying to talk with
beautiful shells of
red haired,
For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, \'It might have been.\'
For more than sad words, for more than ´being´ and ´was´, the saddest is the absence of you.
you were dreaming of me
last night
of giving me a blowjob
maybe standing
possibly laying
i was dreaming
of me
watching us
watching me
miles away i was dreaming
of the same room
then the
for i never turned on the lights
nor the tv or the radio
never washed my eyes and face
never touched your side of the bed
never wore clothes
never tried to build sentences
or destroy
like chasing trains
on the surreal fields of Morpheus
buying cheap brides in the supermarket
down the street
like phantoms
of the impression of love
my youth riding along Dshinghis Hahn
red
in Rabat
excited
concrete roses kissing
your wet feet
your hand shaking
the street is fading
and we make love
within the eyes
of lovers
the city moans
long fingers grow
buildings reaching
suddenly, an intrusion of morning!
white kitchen floor,
white shroud covering
the world ,
behind the steel curtain
the coffee never tasted so
bitter,
my soul never felt so
heavy
talking to
screaming corpses,
screaming corpses like torches,
burning memories of you,
of the long buried desires,
coffin for me,
coffin of truth.
and then
paso-doble with the winter in us,
dancing
Falling from your eyes ,petals,
White, like the oblivion\'s snows, and i wish ,
i so wish ,my love,
to catch them, let them free, fondle, build, kill them
barehanded,
with my chest, broken of
fragile beauty of restless moments
gone
special place between heaven and earth
alone
hurting more like a destruction
just alone
discovering in the footsteps of melancholy
the silence in
AG