(…)
and
the sun was still visible
between the metal sheets

as the forearm
presses deep into
the throat’s dream

i undertook a flight
movement bit
the pillow
and awoke puzzled

it then sounded just
like a heavy
book fell to the floor
as the tenant
shot himself

gloss on the ground
makes passers-by
stagger

there is no word of grief
maybe just
the attempt to
reflect oneself in a house façade

repeatedly i have
picked up this book
and let it fall again

the door seems
to have snapped shut
while we
held fast onto our own
hands holding
respectively

(…)
and
soot outside in the snow
which is starting to melt

the sun rays flash
and the shadows are also
freshly ground

glow
fiery-, after- ,alpine-
on the way to the mountains

i rather like plaid
and a finger
to the lips
before the kiss hits the temple

i dream of overview

which expanse
no shore
grey over grey
hand over hand
while climbing the rope

open minded
to be hoped for
looking for a while
on tombstone sample images
on the smart phone

they seem to come
with flowers

sways the wit
from our youth

all that’s right
is left for dead

(…)
and
how you like this
i don’t care
age appropriate

bone constructs
are sustainable
for skin boundaries
softly cushioned

cheek to cheek
heart to heart

affectionate
unlike birds
fluffed up

tangible
not yet flown open

always run
with the right ones

the ground in front of the garage
run clean
to turn our backs
to friends
not foes

apart from that
we always
looked
elsewhere
and in the end
away