you have to be with me, naked
listen to your heart and undress
forget about your heavy stress...









it is just us: my huge and thick lust
your greedy mouth, everything what
we came here for; let's f''k away all of the bore

Is it possible to have absolutely nothing on your mind.
Just staring at the cracks in the ceiling,
while scrunched in bed.
The gentle taps of the rain
would lightly knock on your windowsill.
Your favorite song-
escaping from your earbuds.
And for a moment, you forget about the world
and all your worries.

<>


a lump in my bed
————————

sheet covered, toe to head, alive or ?
call it lumpen woman, though shapely,
the thick coverlet says yay, let’s suppress!
what lies sheet-deep, let everyone wanna guess?

two arms snakily shoot/emerge, straight out,
from besides ears, to aerate treasured tresses,
blonde mane, lioness locks, somehow sun colored, of the
rest, a-guessing kept, I man of reason, am’nt a speculator

reasoning that when the world was 1st created,
there was a holy hole in my side, missing a ribbing,
leaving me needy for a plugging, a poultice covering,
a bandage stitched, so my breathing unimpaired

thus this how and why the lumpen woman is come
into bed and body, to patch and complete, warm and
stoke me, wake up us to freshly chilled spring atmospheres,
and other supposed reasons to compose only love poetry

Fri May 22
early morn bedecked bed
isle of sheltering

at that first loud crash
I huddle under thin sheets
shivering and scared

i woke up
alone again
and the last sips of champagne still rest in the glass we shared drinking from last night
the bed sheets still carry your fragrance
which otherwise wouldn't have been remembered
and the ashtray, laying within two burned out cigarettes, smoked after the sensational miracle of love

but anyways,
no goodbye note
no message
i woke up,
again

I'm dying by hunger
he said
and I remembered about
all these ruined places
and its children
and their mothers
no
you're not dying

you just still don't have enough capacity
to realize
that you don't need a new jacket
and shoes
you own muddy ones in the hallway
and the others you don't like
*******
give me
a better reason

and try
to swallow your dreams
and keep them
in a digestive tract
to the last second
of not giving a ****

as the ones who are trying to fall asleep now
on the pillow of tomorrow's death