The WindowWe stood like two statues near the window, your hands carefully holding my waistRaindrops touched the tormented pavement, following those same cracks they always tracedAs we watched a cat climbing cars and faces full of misinterpretationWe smiled and read each other's thoughts, our usual way of communicationThe back of my pale neck sensed the shadow of your hairI could imagine us in a million light years, still standing over thereThe very moment resembled breathing: natural, eternal and completeEarth seemed to fade at the horizon and begin right at our feetThen I slowly turned my head and whispered three questions in your ear"What are you doing on this human-inhabited planet then, my dear?Why does time seem to chase us more and more each hour?And will the cardboard birdhouse survive this heavy shower?"Fingers entwined, eyes fixed on the watercolour sky,like a softly shimmering statue near a window -I listened to your reply.
The GazeI'd like to sit and merely stare at youto get acquainted with the little things you do.Study the careless way you flip your hair,or how you mumble poetry to vacant air,tenderly cut a half-ripened tomato in two..And all the time I'd quietly be loving you.Right there. Resembling a silver statue in a chair,I would like to be left alone,to sit and simply stare.
A JourneySuddenly, it seemed like I wasTravelling backwards, one step ahead in time...Being sucked into a hole in which nouns never rhyme.--Cold cappuccino drips down your lips in black and white slow motionNumb numbers electrifythe essence of my emotionInfrared film underlines the hollow echo of your nameSide effects ofbeauty - half-impaired with shameNausea's taking over, waving in the way colours have always been: Cubic clouds of automatic blue and
Morning ShiversYes,it is morning, probably around fourwe exhale slowly as we're lying on the floorjust like our clothes: silently waiting to bepicked up in the afternoon. The scorching sun inside of meshines through the curtain of my eyelashes, your face burnsin the dark as you move your lips to kiss my face- somewhere a page turns...i drank my cocktail with a straw.
SkiesI love the sky.It is always there to haunt us and protect us. The planets which made us who we areare hardly visible. Instead there's all this blue, blue, blue,and black at night.Black and blue, battered and bruised we will live our lives in the arms of Love.Sheepish clouds will cross our path and vanish in the distanceAnd the sky will pour its rain over our heads and there's nothing we can dobut stare at all this b l u e (and sometimes black)The green grass tickles our feet, but it seems merely a feeling, a touch, a touch of summer -long hazey days when we were wasting our time - - - - - - - in the soft, soft, yellow sunshine,our minds got blurred a
the Artist's complexityexplore your soul and your hands will speakphrases will turn laces will burndon't ask me how to live and learnthe difference? how am i supposed to tell?between divine oblivion and frustration from hellI dye my hair and my hair dies everydaynumb nails i paint ripped records i playi paint my nails for fun, not my canvas.Why don't you understand? It resembles one irritating, relieving, eternal cough.The artist's complexity will always be a mystery.(at least to You - not to Me)ssh.