wanderlust thirsts for earthly scents
the farewell of a soul allowed without fear
for gratitude becomes unnoticably purer
on cracked lips above ****** sandals
and searcher is the silent word in my most
valuable friendship with this kingdom
we feel the temporary darkness trembling
and point at birds that refuse to stay
despite our crossing footprints despite
the black hourglass of our history
full of secret horniness

I would prefer to distillate your tears
drink them with a smile for everyone
and sadly point out the sparkles of hope

what keeps me from doing so
some call wisdom

I dream
how her morning nakedness
overshadows the depth of old plants
and how her tears of joy twinkle
at the edge of my deluge

I forget
how in a gray black past
my pillow was wet with tears
and I kissed it because I could not expect
ever to embrace someone like her

I honour
forever how I found her
the pearl  in a sea full of mines
and how she quenched my sadness
as if it had been hers for many years

I cherish
how on a late day in June
on an ancient brigde in Prague
I asked for her hand and how her eyes filled up
with the light that keeps me warm

I hope
she will stay

our flock creeps blissfully towards the abyss
we do not feel the tightened leash any longer
our heads full of beaming ignorance
because the network keeps us socially
alive

our flock ***** judgements and squeezes them
laughing in other eyes until also the exaltation
that still remains becomes ordinary and slowly
extinguishes into a darkness in which no child
can read

our flock could graze upon new lands
but prefers to stay in a barren circle
pacing up and down

up and down

despite everything, stay with me
(even if it is just here in this world)
share hazelnuts music with me
dissect the seconds
make the morning turn more pink
and intertwine the noontide smells with me
together – beg in me for evening
thank the candlelight and afterwards
lay your skin on mine

listen, let me protect you and whisper
as if I am an orphanage
without laws, rod or anguish

just for the pleasure of whispering

a raw beast slouches towards my native soil
the cradle holding our innocence rocks wrathfully
back and forth in the ruthless wind
the windows are shut the door locked
and still I hear the helpless cries
of whole communities collapsing
and crumbling because there is no center remaining
no mental balance left to connect the old
with the new and one day when the beast arrives
we will stare at each other with bloodshot eyes

and muse
*wir haben das nicht gewusst

he feels the silence between them
becoming heavier, pregnant almost
and he knows that it cannot take much
longer in the way an embryo knows
that nine months will be over soon

she feels him drawing near unnoticably
or maybe it is his aura which proceeds
him like a premonition and somewhere
between the stars a constellation
twists itself in their direction

he tries to think of the right words
but knows that letters fall short
to convey what he wants to
share with her like a child

kiss her mind and
her body will follow

like an old farm wagon she scratched
meticulous tracks throughout my heart

a fierce fear endarkened her beauty
when a cloud covered the moon
and myriads of scenes vaguely
protecting against penetrating entities
have preceded her

like a cheeta on the verge of dehydration
sensing the prescence of a water vein
from miles away across the plain

like that she silently understood
my shadows