attention-wise i am on the soft-spoken spectrum
reel the volume in i mean press me
you like the soft-spoken don’t you
somehow i am light-headed in march and what you say
kind of message is that
i like good girls
come on

i whistle along to the architectural tone of your everlasting
messages and i
whistle along to your unfitting jazz
i like your unfitting jazz
like jeans i never wear jeans
you never wear me out i am never tired in your company

buy me press me i will dance
mostly jump though in your eyes i still see your angry eyes
a shrine a bed a jumprope for falling and standing
completely naked
in a hot pink at-fault-bathtub
soap me press me so we never have to freak out anymore
bathe me press me so we always say i like you so much
i miss you so much in 24 hours
press me press me i am only at a short distance

you can see them
you can see them
the nails they pin everything to
the wall next to my bed
father and child unlooking
i am misery and blurry hands and fingered
hands
and woman with mask
woman with lips ****** off
man with hat

brain imploded
when i lie in bed i feel like shaking and like i might survive
another three days

and half blue woman
bird fed by woman's tears
everything next to my bed is woman's
and tears's and slippery what's really happening
dead fireworks of two dates

the old acid buy me more tides
i am led by the waves and they push me aside
complain that it is not enough

i can keep on coming forever
i can twirl
put my head on while hands and
slip away slowly
a course of history
in which i am ever arriving
nine times complete circles on a
seabed of trick trick
brim stick
wide stick
stick stick to me wisely

take down"
the news
tireless
After the fiasco

that could not go wrong.
"And what is infuriating in reds is that -
thought that the others ate
everything that we built around ourselves
and above all
the Help and - and - it would
not be so dark

buffering over face
"Let's go"
take down"
those opportunities
take down" took him down in the street
near his own house - a punishment on
his face fearing pale conversations
nearing him and
expectations

a little pale thing
beside him

"To be honest", shamelessly
we were those things that disappear
we were wondering

i want to let my eyes fall down
till i see red veils i stand often in dim light chin up
with my legs small and kneeled
oedipal slits never eroding
a little sage across my bed solely an ode to cleansing

serpent valentine
forever blinded and biting its way through
two layers of black cotton
venomous overtime king with scepter
my neck ornamented almost a warning for casualties

a mindless centenary every second written down on paper
falling notes a rhythm difficult to follow
a corner unfolding metaphysically
toothless symbolism softly smelling of super mist

grey magic
conch shell
chest floored
binary pair of hands collapsing ten seconds at a time
pentacles carved into city-clogged skin
reconnecting to fire almost within reach of
combustion

to scorpios all days are multitudes
so long a one-man-feast

it's all good it's all good it's all good i
am driving too far and too fast
it's alright it's alright it's all true everything you say is true even the lies are true insofar as
they incapsulate your face
a chair a back stand to community a hooray for individuals and duels

it is really good to know me truly
like something ethereal; that escapes quickly

divine pleasure
i can season to you every
and push me pull you
slurping stupid purple brain worms
they crawl next to dead spider carcasses
god shoots the food i don't blame anyone

what do i know just
not like that we just do not seem to know
our burden
your bitter idea

herded and made themselves believe
they were lost anyway
Surely, caught
the mechanical

"i can't help it" i just have
my own burden. not at
all on the same hill, half of it
He -the other half
Her -to hurt the one half with
the other half. I just have Nothing
"if you had promised him to me"

None of them both
won
"he hád, and that is winning"
we want
"you promised"
growing rebellious in the end
ran away, chose that with a
tear on his heels.
looked down on the ruins of his Mechanical still
cheerful
rancid, "it has not been defined"

new definition of that there are no set solutions no
promises are real i am
in a dark room tried to undo myself
from all the hair ties it is haywire
disaster i'm bleeding everywhere
i'm sorry like electronically waves
sometimes i think about suicide and
then i wouldn't know how much deeper i can
dig i would be Thanatos and nothing else i will just keep going
going smash my face on the floor little
spatters a carve a wineglass in my veins so
i am red on the outside like i am
red and fire on the inside

there can be only one conclusion
we're all terrified and outside is
terrible and in me there are terrible
doors and like a car crash they're all so wide open
and our love is wide open like a bleeding eye and
closed like me at lunch time and by
spring i will be completely empty or opened again it all means
the same thing and at spring or
at lunch time i can't tell the difference anymore
i'll be completely apathetic i will look at
you from a frontal point of view and i will say
i can't feel my legs they do not
take me anywhere anymore all i want is to
have a window to look
out maybe i will see you walking down the street
and i'll hear that music playing in my head

i was thinking of how we behave as cinema
creatures in dark theatres strenuous thumbs
you crawl up to me and become the smallest man in
humanities little hairlocks between
kisses how you raise my elbow to
bring my fingers near your lips how
you raise my elbow

you said feet are a medium for
intimacy and i can't put down
my heels on the streets like i used to

you were never strange you were
always far away and i was always holding up a magnifying glass to
remember every detail always in preparation i was always
holding up a magnifying glass i was always in love i was
always in love

i like how he lives in a room full of himself
that is probably what connects him to the other
young knights
-his obsession with himself
i like how he frosted passion onto his glasses when
i gave him one lick of my sugar glazed eyes
enlarged wine gulped down ready to leave all
he sees when he looks at me anymore is how
passionate i am how passionate i am
(Red i am Sorry)
i like how i've so honestly opened up all kinds of
juice for him to drink up i like how i cry
every night
for
another knight i like how i'm caring for myself by
destroying clean fingers yellow teeth black ink white pants all sorts
of wine in fact i'm scarring myself
i think it's strange how i always have to
stretch my legs out to feel anything
hands around myself every night i'm
laying like a vessel opening myself up there
must be some link to soil, and floored, and fortress

no these spiders are not native to Belgium but
they will crawl inside my mind and make me into some
horrible monster i am always very loud you must
hear me screaming from the other side of the
nebula you are transforming all other brown-haired boys and
trust me there are a lot of brown-haired boys and they're
all you when they come close they can tell
i've betrayed myself

the words miserable and memorable are too much alike
as in an empty letter
that does not fit any of the categories we know of
i do not hear much anymore with the knowledge that
i have buried my left ear deep into the pillow
it seems to help a bit

my throat seems a bit blackened in the back as
peppered people will not dare to admit
there is something to say for hanging out of a window that
looks out on the cats of the neighbours downstairs

as peppered people will not dare to admit there
is something to say for sleeping with no intervals on
some levels this is a normal morning i
do not eat meat anymore no one offers to do the dishes
for me i watch while you eat and break what remains of yesterday
down the middle

and then i imagine we
are laying together on the bed
that is the universe
the streets feel softer
i have found some feathers
in my armpit and we are
all angels we jump we
jump we can see how we
bow to each other

you are standing on the top of
my tree-trunk head you are a beautiful
bird and i am handing
you your wings
i swear i love you excruciatingly
am crushed under your bird feet

lift me up and you never
will and will you ever let me go
can i lift myself out of this dirt or
am i planted like this for now

i enlist whatever i acquiesce
i juxtapose comparisons i drown
myself in learning about the awful ways
of life and lingering

i am controversialist
exceptional conversationist empty
boudoir tired Heidegger
how did i come into waking can i turn
my back one more time

THE ANSWER HERE IT IS!
writing in white is easier instead of speaking
because none of the words are real
consider a new use of margins

reliving reliving eight-teen and none of the snow hopefully
and none of the cold blue blue please makes me sad

IN MY HEAD EVERYTHING IN ARROWS AND ALWAYS
POINTING AT HEADS HEADS THUNK

HAPPY me in a supersonic spacious ship landed on earth really here
like really really here with my thoughts as roots around feet
stupid thoughts make me trip and fall my
hands scratched open and i scratch my arms open as well
nice old habit

stranger do you remain home cosily cosily do not trash yourself
do not log in your fingernail tips

so i can air myself in minus four and
think think think about paste paste paste

SOME REVELATIONS WHEN READING FLAUBERT:
-fantasy world is unsafe and real real world is fake and harm
-cry over made up situation every day
-IS THAT AN HYPOTHESIS?
-YES you are dumb and smart at the same time
-mostly: I AM SUPERIOR LIKE A BIG IDIOT

good friends
mere acquaintances like romanticising devoid of hope and despising with determination in one split second
...

Feast!
Death and Disaster!
Call in the mothers and fathers, my youth owns the streets!

After all that reminiscing about Friday,
I broke my computer,
I lay in bed,
Bleeding heavily,
Hysterically laughing,
Everything is fine.

surely i am the Moon Queen
surely my back itched
how did you expect me not to be
my long paragraphs about my
desire for water were not only witness to a great
desire in me they also understood that i need to dip my fingers
how my back ached wishing it could press tighter against my heart
i need warm bare flesh
another form of protection

surely my desire to change the past cannot move backwards
it bounces back into my chest and mind and hits and hits
we are two swans
elegant and defending another fort both widowed
black swans
that might have been the reason why

surely when the fire dies it still
is ardent among the ashes
for a long time

cleared up the road
aroused further
"get to your places..."
again he blew
released it
went forward about a meter
stopped
they jumped playfully in exactly the Wrong
direction into the forest, without paying attention
A
murmur could be heard. this is not what they
came for...
"let us try again" as official as
possible
they tried again
called back
with their nose
pushed. what was expected
of them and Waggled their tales
-they understood

cleared up the road. again
aroused and blew
but something had gone wrong, now he wasn't functioning properly
at all anymore,
threw it in the air
chewed on it and walked off in opposite
direction
"what do they do at real races?"
in a hurried rendez-vous

i often have to search not long but
very hard to find a little integrity left
in my body
and when i wake up i am completely confused because
evening and morning are two loose ends of
the same black hole

every night i lose the feeling in my legs
washed up jelly legs
every morning i wake up all solidified
it takes me over five hours to seal my sheets

"under trees which are still bravely
competing against autumn"
there, i stole your sentence
what's it going to be then, eh?

****** anarchist
we live in a power house greater than this world
i crawl through a hidden door in the attic
little metal plate on my chest
two lightning chambers powered by dark energy
walls dripping smell
of fresh herbs

the window a post for reminiscing
restoration hour

the sun lightly heated my back like a soft blanket and there is another person laying with me
and draws lines from chin to hip
and is soft and sweetly licks my ear lobe in the dark
all of the wrinkles in my body are slightly softer
and i am less sharp to you
i remember a beach and a sea and myself who was standing there alone the water had gone up till my ankles
i was looking for a feeling a purpose a meaning and when the sun rose i could say yes that is it
just like how the sun rises and dives stemming from an eternal duty my brain makes the same images dutifully rise and dive
myself on the beach myself between the sheets myself and all of the waves that come over me whether they were made of water or linen
if i were to go on until all the memories were gone and
only the bad feelings remained i might as well
scoop my brain out of my skull and kick it away like a football
in my part of the universe there is only half of what could have been and not even the good part there is too much muchness
even the headlights know i cannot help it over and over again
i fall into it
and i am not really ******* we are kind of close to each other and still immersed by smoke

they're probably still somewhere in the forest
the Red one discovering
vengeance; the forest from beginning till the end and
even the roads
no trace but then
up above in the
window stood He, his face and his lips
he was licking suggestively
saw and ran

"as if it
wasn't enough the hundreds of hours"

there was no trace but
He had succeeded
standing completely outside and very

"why you wanted
me" bitterly, "i have figured you out. i am
completely something-someone
visible"
then they called him the last disaster changed into
a Constellation
upset: imagine. did i
overextend for Him-

"let us go home" i have
beauty

"there the dog is" Red coming into being suddenly; that
better back

so drop me
spit me
taste me trench-like
tear away at the restraints
they call the borders
devour the borders

apostel
do not feed me insulation
parade thee wide piped

rain-dropped down locks
in window reflection
functionally i become fur
keep thee warm

she sees she sees
she statutes stoically

every day i pass the same
**** statue
of a cat
licking her paw

she sees she sees
she knows endurance

And there is no one to discover them.
if i simply existed i would
fit nowhere, in all the books I
have read
they just don't know what to do
tell me, do you remember the Mystery
of rummaging through the room
and not even finding
the person
that opened it

well, that just shows, look what
i actually mean is that people are too careful
with all kinds of things
but when it comes down to it: dissolving
or unmasking, a decision cannot be found. these
are regular people, like you and me that try to pick up
their common sense

some just cannot see it because they are too dumbfounded
and that is that
however interested you may be
there is nothing you can do to set yourself in motion

at that time two small
names
both were stirring in me

drips southwards
with elevators in rivers
and your finger-claws riding around my
neighbourhood
i will be friendly

when you interrogate me
i will sweetly tie you up
with bow and myrrh
you could be a christmas present at autumn equinox
meaning always keeping the wrong fête in mind
i will resort to dating only palms and knees

total antagonist
repetitious permissive
fantastic utopian
analogue submissive

ask me in time how to dim two lights at once
short buildings
with folded stories

mail me to underground aquaria
see who will take me
honeysuckle my inner thigh

fishnet tights
resist my eyes and trust yourself
******-corner revealed
spotted tattoos in verity
you have four minutes

the fourth one being most crucial
in my crystal castle
medieval Medea versus myself

februaric sun is an excuse
unfaithful quadruped is an excuse
Lappish light is an excuse
two arms i lie on maybe
downward dog hard hand everything under agoraphobia
and then march and then march and then march
two arms i lie on maybe

i am completely stretched out in my premisse and
abdominal is panicked in my oppositeness and then
some things bang in short moment calling walking past like
almost happened language like bangs and cyclical leaning

i believe you in dutch my head spins in angels and some times
i speak in mother tongues like six in the morning happiness

hip-snake i am mad about yourself there me cut you
fly me through italic parental dutch angles we look through shoulders
do i want to scratch your shoulders faithful quadruped

i do know either
i do know either
like an unruly suppressed strolling goosing noise missing like MIST
you read me

i propose, to try ourselves
lower deck thoroughly grounded
found
a few minutes not thinking
the purpose
"well" he swallowed only half of it
"are We actually here?"

aflutter
in that corner over there
" we came to find a murderer"
austere
He put over his ears
his face of Leadership
try to look at him

red being Stares
He is coming

their own eyes unbelievable
Scrag on his own legs...
in his own hands
anyone would have lowered their courage into the ground
had
all the divergent facts fit into it

"someone else dressed up like
that too, to hunt. i bet, that she is
just like me: the
Mystery she has read
imagine if, we
both had foreseen it. of course we'd melt

whether the shells of the earth
yawn and lay down their arms over-through-around
each other i do not know
or the connectedness
all the houses all lit up
and the network stretches all
over the earth's shells
i do know myself in shells
myself though fully wired
on the level-online most
of the time
i sense a disconnection in
myself never fully satisfied
spacing between breaths eyes all tones of brown hair
(why do they all have brown hair?)
clicking my tongue in mouths
left on read entering reality in a manic-hyper-way type of way
often i do not know what of
myself is real beats away
for whom lowered tired legs on bed frames
from walking days lays down in company

i think i got pleasured today
though i'm not too sure
all the days are blending into
multitudes-lists; detailed studies of
colours jump-cuts freeze-frames
names of people whose lives i
should know about
and their works

i'm pretty sure i smoked today
and i will do it again
fulfil myself
as an existentialist
for her it is about laying down on the ground
but the meaning is different to me
i must take off and be free

i play and my own feet **** in my toes i am little
little funny crawler sheets and heavy ornamental thoughts
and breaths
i am and become and have completely absorbed off-likened thorough maddened let me go and fattened unleashment like a hound

on account of lately i want more and
longer nights make me lady of looniness
loneliness written on my left breast on the back of my left ribs terrifying thoughts and wounds and far from the eye
unsatisfied crinkling

of streaming and forward i know nothing my back against
my hopes i will sieve the honey yet keep nothing my tongue retracting into my mouth only silence not oracle

red and black an emblem for apples and craters poison and mindstream paraphernalia and household women on shores women in dresses
and in piles my own two infinite desires

Strange friend, past, present, and to be;
Loved deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold I dream a dream of good;
And mingle all the world with thee;

THAT NIGHT WAS
A FRAIL ANIMAL
LIGHT BULB IN THE BACK OF HER HEAD
A LITTLE SQUEAMISH
AND IN THE PROCESS OF FALLING

ALWAYS THE FALLING
SHE ALLOWS THE RED FLAMES TO LICK HER
AND NEVER GETTING UP ON TIME
SHE SQUEEZES A TUBE OF PAINT
AND COMMENCES HER RITUAL

BLACK ANTS OCCUPY THE KITCHEN
WITH WHICH SHE FILLS HER STOMACH
SOMEONE WANTS TO COME IN
TAKE HER ARMS SOME PLACE HIGH AND DRY
THEY WERE PAINTED RED FIVE THICK COATS

1.black lipstick
2.see-through dress
3.rosemary, strand
4.tap water+tired eyes
6.pain, stomach

"I propose we just- just lend him.
I believe no one is home. We can
put him back before someone comes home."
no answer
cut him loose. in high spirits
brotherly
for them

now they were ready, the feast
was laid down on the reserved place
private

to flow towards
big business
ceremony of the

written. "For it and on the other
hand Against it" like a
running fire
if you go i bet
you won't win they won't give you

All of the participants
a stranger deserves more at first
sight, more respect than someone we've known our
whole lives, and he looked fit
"i believe he is a real one"
with admiration
firm grasp on both participants, tied them up
then he blew with an important face

the old man only just moved in
his name
Scrag, and everyone making an effort
to remember new humans
the humans named themselves
after their appearance or character

the owner in trouble because the man's name
was longer than usual and looked kind of
wrinkly he had dark glasses
by the fence and his job was to
produce a Great Curiosity
for everyday things

for anyone that even remotely feels anything it would have been
clear that the owner was in trouble if interest and
activity collided in
his head; heated even then
there was more than a
look at last
he stood up after bowing down and looked, said

"nothing" being all happy
"then why?"
"to look at you"

still happy, but without
moving
"go away! do you hear me? go
away"

solemn disappearance of
Scrag...
his silhouette
in actuality Red being in deep Doubt
his silhouette near
he's done something to his neck
fell for Scrag's neck
of course when
people haven't got anything better to do
than fall for people it's a lot of
experience. maybe it's not that
he's more like Scrag than i am; his neck just is
better. maybe he had that kind of neck That is
naturally why i chose him, because he had such a
neck for it... Look he's going

conjures up an
Important Gesture
no one to write on
that's why i feel i must do it

outside
the old man stayed at the fence and
said: "My dear
owner of the bed of roses"
and the owner answered: "dear vacation"

let me hear you more
clever than it might be a trick and you
are not In. only to
bring Scrag off of that path

it's enough to just guard the frail
borders of our relationship
it's a dress spread out i'm sewing
even before it's falling apart
because i feel like it
the fabric is soft and smells like you
i want to sleep in it

for three weeks i have been inarticulate

after reading all those books i believe i
i would find out pretty soon
there always is that one person and you think that
he would never be able to do it
it would be stupid to read
all those books, they would soon enough

be too big

it is much more fun to be the man
that discovers everything
that is the one i want to be. i keep on reading
until i am too big and i bet you there will be
not a single way then to unmask
people
and after i die i will be famous and the people
will put up a statue for me

"i don't think they will" red being Abetment
"you will probably be murdered
before you even discover anything"

"and then it will be us who will be famous"
is that what you really think, offended

i would leave me
alone and not worry too much about finding
out. by the way, i will not be
killed. i would always have a bottle with me
i would drink
a little bit after all

at that moment skipping in
between the Trees. grabbed
and tied the collar.
full of disgust.

why all on him
what he said
impatient. They got out of the forest,
a road home
Red being a dog, in doubt

be careful be open
got inside tied again to the
chain
Red in silence

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the woods, I left the ruins
there. I bet I can
fix him

it was
only because he did not understand:
the Optimism knows no limits.

slowly, in thought, was Red "it is
the wrong dog
he is the wrong dog impatient
not the same one
he was before

was not entirely Red anymore
was not
entirely. Do you know

then there came a long period of passion
enticing stories
the books were given away and
the interest slowly
melted too, just like the owner dreamt
every day
about the two of them, they would hang over the fence
until he sent them away. after that they left

it is possible that the owner in the
past had had much to do with
age and nature. the moment they were hanging over the fence
she would wave fiercely and imminently with the
syringe. at once
these events kept the interest
alive
"i would want to buy everything
he puts his syringe in"

killer? he looks exactly like those kind of people, who
spray venom on others
do you remember the man in the
Mystery, whose rake
was poisoned? i think he is exactly someone like that
it's probably best we ran away so much. i bet you
if we hadn't
we wouldn't be alive right now

i draw little shapes on your back and you mimic them on mine, shall we do it like that? you turn me around robot-like: so you want to understand me you just see what you want to see there is no way i can help you out you do not know what it is all about; i give myself a call but i am not home when will i go home? i winter to you -they say, i hear, that life is the only place to resort to; i am here and there in scraps of others and of myself and i sow everything together that i am able to get. we fly like two birds who are illuminated from down under by a glow; the afternoonsun, a nearly-red and the spiders at my feet keep on scaring me and i keep on looking whether they are really there or are merely apparitions and you kiss my feet and everything is solved. come under my wings little bird i swear there is nothing up my sleeve and then we love; our treacherousness; as raw as meat can become, our flight from everything is vertically upwards.

breathing feels so nice at
the turning point of the year
will everything be upside down
will i be learned
we will see we will see

to breath in once more
and then it is over
in pivoting snowflake-lights
in whirls to breath in once more
and then it starts all over the
pivoting

the pivoting around a dot and the
walking down a line
the balance between our hands this
high in my lungs that i
choose to hold in/put aside/put on everything
of the breaths that that is safer

at night we stand still
look over our shoulders
something is still flickering turning
snowflake-lights or something more beautiful
that only we own

close your eyes i do not want you to see this
only feel it and there is nothing up
my sleeves
a bird that you are lands with
imprints in my shoulders where
i stand firmly i dare
to stand still

if anyone tries to shoot me i will shoot
first
"you are very clever, are you not?" red being Sarcasm
it's simple: i may
not be very clever and so on
i'm not as dumb as they say in the reports
above all i am clever about discovering

"well, name us then"
red
if you would be so kind to unmask
if you had the chance you would find a skeleton by chance
very soon, not clear who
"i have so many
ways to **** people and i
also know which kind of people do it"
"get out" that was all Red

by that time we had already reached the old shed where people
often meet and play their games

the kind of red that really did it
is guilty it is me that by chance
did it

could've been some kind of vainglory. in the end we played the game
till we had to go to bed

past, though i would try again
i believe
he's probably too careful for that
At that time we had reached the fence
even more careful
that the
man nor syringe nor poison remained. at the time he was
tying roses he felt cheered on

"please come back"

a lack of tools
on a difficult occasion in his occupation

"excuse me"
excuse me for interrupting you
where the older one went

he Is

courage sinks in great confusion; on the
end of the road only panting disciples
might be better to be afraid of him
walking in a thoughtless maze
is great when you're afraid
it is easier to lose yourself

"after all of this, do you really think Scrag is on vacation"
of course not, he is on Deep Contempt

lowered, the whole smelled of desolate
loneliness. in dreams, for a while, they kept
hanging over the fence, but it's less fun to hang
over it when there's no one to send you away
anymore. So i keep on
walking

"i wonder where he went" red being
Meditative
of course he killed of course he poisoned and beat
and shot

"poor old Scrag"

he had no trouble catching her because
she couldn't run away
"but then why did Scrag ****** her"

"you think there is only one single reason to
****** someone" red being Stirred
if you had read all those books
mixture of red and I, you would know there are a
myriad of reasons to ****. i bet you Scrag
hid himself
the other found him
that
dreadful sound
kept him from sleeping: it made a hole in
Scrag

their attention extremely pointed. they
endured on a constant basis -suddenly put a
day
to pleasing relations
The result was
overjoyed. a tremendous party
a couple of bottles and an amount
"most"
after searching long and patiently
on the brim of madness
found That

running as fast as we can
he still seemed to think alone was
enough too. he liked to think of himself as a glorious victor
of the race and then a participant
but he ceded for
ONE

with his redness he wandered across fields and paths looking
for stupidity, as if he
suddenly
The day began and still there was no

announcement

he rose, went straight through
everybody

"then what shall we do?" red
looking, it took care of the
tension
I think with studied nonchalance as if
unaware of the originality of
the change,
had to keep
running, repeating

amazed, expected
something like that, but so
new, so unexpected, so challenging and modern
helplessly repeating
still excessive
and a couple of other people
talking. it seemed very simple. Really Something

first objection
cannot be kept
still

though some people
didn't fit entirely
weak spot

on.

and always the wild cheers
and always the new flushes of neo-bubbles the golden
spritz the extravaganza the flow the flush again the flush the witch

if only the dark brew the clear foam of necks scaled and breaks-evens
if only four miles without eye's sighs and brown leaves of life crumpled under gloved feet the feast blaming jupiter for everything

so the plain thigh calls out dedramatise me lip my inner skin
so turnover your glass nose stiff mouth bloodshot shin it’s partaking
at one to five in the morning should bed’s seconds allow it

so i am wondering do you ever think of me
if only in shifted night vision wine-blurred mind drifting
and always a little bit melodramatically nostalgically charged, lovely

strong-looking men... maybe
go back first and...
an older man. i saw
clearly... the others all
young and firm...
washed in doubt. "I don't know
what to do..."

removed the key from
his eye; the door threw
itself forward. And there
eye to eye to Scrag

and his dignity
forgotten: he erupted
he recovered
what does it mean

a hand at red at an ear
his Other the one from
downstairs. there he looked at the
daylight, investigator again
he erupted roaring. again he recovered

Well, what does this all mean?
uttering Scrag, "that is them"
took his leave
to a hole
uncovered
in his most official
manner

mathematics state that the line in the middle of my chest
is a border

where blood passes over to purple
where i pass over to you (some thoughts)

i sort myself out trash myself another me
wants control
another me screams something about shells
that i should put them over my ear shells i should
never listen to your paper voice (is it weak)
never listen to gravity it proves i cannot ever fall harder or
faster or with more impact still i feel more impact
something has changed and no branch of science has the means to prove it i am standing alone with my feelings

i pass the border in myself then
split myself into two halves

someone that still longs for absurdity
someone else that has long sharp fingers
ticks on the table counter until multiple punctured holes manifest
present my patience dissolved

i am punctured
my brain counter top leaks through my ear shells into the leaves of grass where i sit present
and am writing that you mop through my thoughts
please do not aggravate the mess

show me you can be split in half (double identity)
luminous today
******* scraps of me tomorrow
and kissing and kissing and kissing

the owner hesitated, saw this servant
over
repeating an old man, really looked forward that
he would do that... Then he would be
mad...

no, no, no.
very uncomfortable. Slap their ears and
let them go
in his pocket
an example
"this is not my slap around their ears"
though i would like to see it happen
it is not on my path to do that...

finally his speech
dramatic
fingers on the old man
and he is
dressed as if
they murdered him and...
eruption; attention
looked at her, then red
then

Then a light filled his eyes
he spoke, "aren't you that

horizon"

sometimes i wish it were true that
i live inside a renaissance painting i would
be stoic and not
overwhelm people with all of this shakespearean *******
in which no one even dares to be themselves there is
irony on so many levels of the flat i praise myself
a Professional Industrial
i deform time around me i wrap time around me
and parade through some levels some memories and
dream of others's memories and do they ever
crumble away have they ever lain parallel to mine
you are here and you are here
not i am almost transparant

noodles is for distant
people)
the plant; which milked
on me
or might be my spit

(it was

have to clean off the
clouds
sky looks a bit damp
on me two
legs are undergoing

love-

your small mushroom
alone
in a delicious room
layered
this is the neo-frontier

And then he found his Plan that
poison was
gardening wanted
to run away fast, remained dead and
buried

"done?" question of red
hoarse

"oh, there are so many ways you have"
careless also
buried i think that is how most people
end up

a sudden Plan -of course
and the interest
so he could
dig then bury then
get and then dig up
what he hid there. for weeks he had been
digging
he is really very clever i would never
weeks beforehand no
i would
and i tried to
hide him somewhere
a very clever man

taken
by his lips; inanimate; rather than
clinging on to the criminal
of his kind
"i wonder what he would say if you asked him"

can we build on it?
for now i have been simply purling
and stones around me green and smooth tell me
the water would have been ankle-deep
if i lifted my head out of these
ankle-deep waves i could
take a clearer guess
how i am actually feeling all accreted
to the riverbed
but can we build on it?
is this rock really steadfast because
i feel in these waters i need more stones
and build a dam to stop all of the
gushing or i might be
on the other side of the dam
slowly drowning myself while
i build

About leaving she wrote
I see you more clearly now
Though you spew boiling oil aimed for my lips
You spew that I should not talk in difficulties
I get it: things are like other things
You get it: you'll talk to me when it starts raining again

About remind me she wrote
If she could file herself safely
In between two maps she would
What to do with all this confusion and heartache
In love would not have to think twice
He was not in my map anyway

Do not send me away
Do not send me away
Let me at least peer through half-closed lids

Scrag, pensive
turned questions around
after all it would have been stupid
on occasion not to accept
running towards the future; catching with a
stern frown i will
begin. i will look very innocent
i will look
how they always do. only the brightest one looks innocent
do you remember the man in the Mystery
he couldn't stop himself from looking at his bed of roses
over and over again; there he buried his victim, he
Had to look at it. they noticed that

"i don't believe you should go
back it seems rather dangerous"
he could still keep his poison
close to him imagine
how dumb it would be to go back
that he is a killer

seriously
i don't believe people like him will **** twice
in a row. you can **** without
being clever but you cannot **** everyone
who passes by
What i mean is that almost everyone who meets someone new dies

cut open
dead
no mask, i have gotten a little reckless

locked up. they were captives
"Heaven!" on this path
touched: yes, that is it completely
i was treading the wrong
path, usually treading the wrong path at first, even
in books. he is an abetter. he Is. and he has
himself
to look for

"what should we do now?" nervously
this too happened
in a room
locked up but he had a
murderer opened up and went inside
pulled his
murderer down and directly to her
i said before that it should have been
me; wouldn't have been
bad. the annoying thing is that i don't have one. I...

deep heavy high squealing
the owner
heard, heard
supposedly empty
vacation; a flash
in the room... figures- big strong-looking
door, their nose en locked them
out just to look for you. luckily
i looked for you, your
deep voice perpetually in doubt

and your hair is all in chains it
weighs you down i know
you flutter like a flag and you are red

but shall we lie down together in pink
should clear skin up
pink baby skin doll
doll pink skin baby
baby doll skin rosé
i am proud and continually laughing

you are a rose bouquet i get the complete
package
you are so
rosy so soft smelling
sensual

it's just that i was looking at everything through rose-coloured
frames calmed me down so to say
still all your red flags looked like regular flags stammering

EVERYTHING ALWAYS IS PINK to you
your lips are soft but they are not
big enough to kiss the whole world

-the female body
is the most pretty pink
the most gorgeous softness-

shall i put on your glasses
can i see everything through your eyes
before your eyes
will that be enough?