I want to kiss her,

but not wake her up, because --


then she'll start talking.

The prelate opens

the ancient reliquary:


holy is the dust.

The girl I follow

would really like to kiss me --


if she just knew me.

So what are the facts?

Just unforgettable, are --


my reconstructions.

Listen to me, as half as I am
Talk to me, talk about me
to your loved ones, to your friends
Talk!
about my big eyes, my crazy dreams
And I, what I want, is lots of things
to tell you, to touch you
Yeah, that's it

.....Here, this is who I am
.....Here I stand, naked in front of you, yes
.....I am afraid
.....Here I stand, silent in the fuss

Look at me, look at least
to what's left of me
Look at me, before I hate myself
What can I tell you that
no one else would tell you?
Just a few things, but
it's me, who I am, I offer you all
I have, here you go

.....Here, this is who I am
.....as naked as I stand here
.....there is nothing more
.....This is my mouth, my cry
.....okay, this is me
.....Here, here, here I am I
.....my dreams, my desires
.....the way I expose myself, the way I smile
.....Here I stand, silent in the fuss

Don't leave, please, stay for a long time
even if it won't save me, no
but without you I don't know how
Love me like you love a friend
who is leaving forever
I want you to love me
because I don't know that well
how I should love my half me

.....Here, this is who I am
.....as naked as I stand here
.....there is nothing more
.....Here I stand in the fuss and in the storm
.....Please look at me
.....to my eyes and my hands
.....This is all I have to offer
.....my mouth, my cry
.....Here I am, here I am, here
.....here, here
.....here, here

The long way back
to my skin's old threshold
limits, replacing the alarm
with a notification
without crisis consultation

and more
than the sensation
of smells and tastes
and more
than the satisfaction
of strength and fatigue

and more
than laughing muscles to feel
there is contact
in between thinking
Placing a lot at a distance
to have space close by

to be balanced
and to love myself
to accept touches
uninhibited, not creeping
like the scent of wisteria

Magic requires that

you see exactly what's there:


real reality.

After this long walk

it would be so romantic --


to give him a hug.

I'm whirling, whirling

around my heart, there's a gate --


it's the gate to love.

You stroke me, I am

quiet like a church before --


the ***** glories.

Happiness: beware,

if you prefer to spare it --


you will choke on it.

You say 'Here it is',

'goodbye', and you go, away --


from the restaurant.

My world and I were

growing, as long as we grew --


death did not exist.

Quarrels, the little

war at home, my fear of your --


being different.

The clouds chasing grey

and fierce, over the canal --


a flock of starlings.

She submerges us

in a great deluge of words --


We're completely soaked.

There, deeply planted

by your finger mouth, the seed --


tickles in my soil.

Parties everywhere,

in every house there's something --


worth celebrating.

Timbuktu, the moon,

the woman in the window --


tired from serving tea.

The Oracle knows

what I want, that's what she gives --


me as her advice.

Around your presence,

everything becomes gloomy --


So stay in my eyes!

I don't want to be an object
of course, but human, a subject
not completely free perhaps

but also not in the hell
of other people's judgment
because I don't ignore

that I am an individual we
an individual love
that falls short

sometimes individual cruel
self-interest, short-sighted
by built-in blinkers

against my nervous fear
of the purgatory of the failures
of other people and myself

(Whoever wants more freedom
and does leave the herd, will know
to be in hell right then)

Something's happening,

more and more people pass on --


what they do not know.

Tell me, what do they

know, the nationalists,


of their own country?

The large pipe *****

rumbles doom, heading for me --


with its air soldiers.

Beauty: a flower,

two people in love, or three --


high bar releases.

Do I hate my job?

No, not enough to quit and --


start doing nothing.

Look, a dragonfly

reflects the sun in a flash –


then… nothing is left.

Drowning refugees,

sailing to the other side --


of their hope, their dream.

When my friend comes
I don't have to do
anything to make things
happen, shamelessly

we are who we want to be
we let warm breaths
play with happiness
in our blood, and exchange

words for bites
of peace in our belly
- the small world
...of contentment

...in the big world
...of striving -
until we are satisfied
and stop laughing

Facts are like bags, they

only stand when you fill them --


with your affection.

There's a museum

called Ministry of the Sea --


No coast anymore.

The gum bubble bursts,

people scream about profit


motives: blue ******!

Bump, bump, with those blows

on my head I can't think what --


to do about it.

She just watches it

with indifference, smiling --


irritatingly.

In the new country

I follow a friend, stepping --


within his footprints.

I'm fully fed up

with plans, it is unhealthy –


I'd better give birth.

Disillusionment:

seeing the ridiculous --


ignoring beauty.

The old man watches

the bathing girl in the lake --


and the sun goes down.

Your despair against

my hope, nose to nose, only --


a door in between.

Where could I be lost?

There are distant sounds, maybe --


echoes of the void?

Safety: high walls all

around, and a large bell jar --


with firing angels.

Office is a place

of meeting where people talk --


and that creates work.

Come, take your clothes off

and clamp yourself, I'll give you --


my arms and my legs.

In me and in you

there is a black void, and God --


fits in exactly.

The dying man gets

married, the ring binds his name --


to the newborn child.

The minister has

a large first-aid kit with him --


He knows the devil.

The warm baths around
the eternal flame and the holy
water of the source
are a mystery
in which I am at home

My desire jumps
from man to man
spring after spring after every rest
- thirteen weeks a year
  to learn to understand everything -

To whom shall I give me
shall I give the chance
to impregnate me?
- 500 times the summer fire
  flaring up in my body -

Tired, confused, not knowing
what is going on inside me
I'm floating in the autumn bath
- it puts me together again
  into a calm woman -

But in the spring, the spring
I step forward reborn
as a fatal woman
- young again and again
  always a ****** -

The deer is close by,

it breathes and looks, motionless –

I feel being seen.

There are knocks, no ring

at the door, I open it --


for a little boy.