Curse

NOT going to the

party

and hanging with me

That was a bit too dear...

Breaking down over fallen angels while the devils play

and crying over a band-aid - that ripped MY snake-skin clear

down to the naked flesh

-lie to me in broad daylight and send it the next way- on a split

screen

That was a no-go, really!

It´s that space: where the beautiful, changing walls

count for you

and rearrange ever so delicately

so you can be me for a little while and see out the window-dream where she stands

And in the light within our skin

can breathe contained in a whisper and I can really FEEL

you!  and still keep moving in

the effluvium of your warmth and all things, counting

spacing

        aligning

standing like the the traitress in flames

yet so much tinier in the room

Not falling in the desperate space :

of the last bread

the love lost; the familiar pentecost of loneliness

The unheard song

is out