the black frontier

needy is the dusk ... its glassy surface. the book. the boy with a blue face. the silence. you have been there. you enjoyed all the beauty. you seduced it and made it even more beautiful. all those cheap rooms in an forgotten quarter. the lips whisper: kiss, kill, kiss, kill, kiss, kill... and then follows the refusal of dawn, which takes you away in a black carriage.

the fire on the horizon. the recluse figure. the pathetic smile. the labyrinth of selfless desire.

::: 2 fragen :::

and as the night falls

you sleep in some other dark solitude. or your eyes drink the vibrant lights of the city. and i feel tired. like a window suffering from rain. or as if i was breathing silk. smooth, almost unrecognizable suffocation.
one day, i will leave the building and i will never look back. hopefully. and other day, perhaps, i will cease to be a consolation junkie.
the morning seems so desperate as any other eternity. mix the coffee with milk and ignore your reeling eyes. there is an invisible piano in the corner of the room. she plays dead melodies. unrecognized, insignificant. a dying man's breath.

::: forever :::

memory loss

i should sleep. it is so late. it has always been. i seem to lose memory. she leaves me hand in hand with my integrity. becoming a thing. no matter how hard i try the days vanish. one after another. disconnected fragments - all that is left after all.
the noble sadness. the car that vanishes behind the horizon. the hand that moves in the darknes. the mysteries of the flesh. desintegration of our family. the disgrace. myriads of eyes. a cigarette buried in the sand on the beach. that beach ... the piano teacher with a constant headache. the pages of all the books i have ever touched. and the holy trinity: fear. solitude. silence.
i fall. and i am afraid that one day i will not be able to stand up again.

::: nothing I could say :::