That one night I
silently counted
the paving
stones as I
kept walking
the trottoir.
Hands in
pockets, breath
leaving
my mouth in
small clouds.
It's cold, but
I have nowhere
to go, because
the lighthouse
is lonely
and the view is
so tiring.

At the ceiling
I stare
as the first
sunlight lights
up our bare
bodies in
the hotel room
Never so sincere
you were,
Even more
flawless than you
have ever been
As I turn around
I take a
deep breath  in
and softly stroke
your marred skin

By the crackling fire I sat
when I remembered
your hollow words
and how you extinguished
my little flame.
I wanted to scream
what about us-
but all I did
was keep quiet
as I watched the last spark
fade away.

In a night so black
as ash, fingers of white marble climb
up in circles
along the edge of the bed.
The legs do not only carry body,
but also silver sparks of light where
hands are touching skin
and where the dark is enjoined to a second place.
Life will find new forms here -
Castings pain, sorrow. But also a joy
- molded in the color of copper -
is slowly getting contour.