It is neither a paper
rolled up and
tied with golden string
nor an inscription at the bottom

Instead it is a voice
that whispers
a melody
a sweet voice coming out a
bitter bottle

the disembodied
voice is meaningless
it goes on and on
without meaning

Alas! It clears
Then I realized the truth,
the message, I
have already sought within.

Life is unsatisfying
Everything is a little unsatisfying

I could write
sonnets
stories and
poems about any girl

But when It
comes to you
my mind and heart
cant even begin to grasp
the thought of you

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

In hollowed halls I roam until the dawn
The minds and bodies are already done
I walk across my mind and not the room
Eaten by my thoughts of impending doom!
But there is a dwindling light from afar
It floats in my mind and falls in my heart

I could not
Help but think of the past
In all it's splendor
And all it's torment

The eyes that once glistened
For me
Now glistened for
someone else

The face that once
put a smile on mine is gone
Tucked away like keepsakes
In the trunk of the past

Time can heal
But it cannot tell whether
The future that's right in front
Of me is living, and well

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.