He never throws his mind too far
into the space of
calculation
he taught himself that
after every
iteration
call it back
so that it does not lose connection

Do you
Make Yourself
Bigger
Do you
Make Yourself the Place
That you call Home

A girl walks
along the street in twilight voting
every second of her life
with every
shake of the head every
twist of her figure every hummed
word every scream
every time a hand is lifted
in aspiring connection
for a coming together
for removing the walls for
not looking
away from what hurts has hurt
for a long time

There's a boy standing
immobile
on the surface of the Earth voting
with every breath every muscle
every fibre of the heart
for this girl

she reads
the words and sleeps
in peace
for the first time since
chaos happened

Open the
Doors don't keep
It sealed in one
Compartment
Let the
Flood
Renew
Your house

Bleeding hands,
dear rub
your  face
analyse over and over
       what is there to ask but
one thing:
do you
really wanna cling to this
do you

Soft blue folds itself
around you
you don't need to
control it
whispers in your ear and the wave this
sound lays out for you
has your feet
trust
the path you walk on

In the middle of the middle
of no space
a pair of yellow, childlike eyes,
innocent and with
just a trace of oblivion,
opens

You're
allowed to breathe
with everything you are
You're allowed
to breathe and
take
Space
wrap yourself around
those obstacles
like water
til they
melt

My heart is swelling when I think
About all you did for me
Totally selfless
Also
It cries for you
Because I see that you dealt with the horrors
All alone

The impact of your golden boots on the cobble stone is heavy,
getting more decisive with every step of the path, forward.
Your deep-red silk cloak sways in the wind
and covers your shoulders and back;
you are on the way, and it is good.

Imagine a king who sets one foot in front of the other, not yet
a hundred percent convinced
that he is going to like his job, this work.
A king who, nevertheless, takes it, because it is his place
and because it is time.
Imagine a king walking with heavy step so as to be heard;
a king whose first command is one pronounced with utter clarity - because it is necessary.
Imagine a king emerging,
leaving all insecurities behind - because it is time.

Imagine this king, secretly pressing - under his red cloak -
his right hand on a spot a bit above his pounding heart,
bracing himself.
For all this is new.

Imagine a king who is human, and knows it.

Do you like
Vanilla ice cream, Love
You nod say yes because
They have told you so they say all kids like
Vanilla ice cream, right

For years and years into
Your adult life you have
Despised
Vanilla ice cream until

One day in spring
The ice cream van comes rushing down
The curvy street
And you do feel
A twitch inside-
Step forward and buy
With a beaming smile on your face
A scoop of
Vanilla ice cream

A girl in the streets, *****, untidy hair a scary look on the face plays
a violin facing
all the while
the man who hates it

One by one he
cuts
her strings but she
keeps playing without a single
alteration on her face

Not even after the
very
last
string has - with a final thud - been cut in half
does she stir

And only when -

It's only then that he does realise
grows pale and with wide eyes feels something sting:
the sound never came from the instrument.

He exhales
gives in
surrenders to the
vibrant sound surrounding
his every cell and hair and thought
bathes
in what ought to be
for so long

Night exhales
Her cold breath in your face
Telling you stories of fear

A nightingale shouts
Her little heart out
For your soul to hear
Where to reach

A rush through the air
Your head tilted back
By a violent grab of your hair

A little bird's flutter
Two lips that stutter
A motionless prayer

A story of Night
That likes to play make-believe

A young pounding heart
That learns within brief
It was played from the start

This tale
Just a dream
Of tonight

Delicate
lines of
light show
on my skin

coming from
where
exactly

Dare say
meaningless
again