sitting down to dinner
we removed our skin
and dared to look
into the silence
passed the illusion of flesh.
a shining spirit clings to a skeleton
their teeth chattering
afraid of the dark / afraid of the light
there is a distant piano chord and the teeth,
ivory keys now,
disperse and travel in sea-shell patterns
into the pit.
into the pulse.
we hung our faces on the washing line for a while.
i look at the intangible who(?)
who is now sitting in front of me.
a cloudburst of wanton gold
of nothing and everything
and an ancient brass coin spinning in-between
i see
i see
i see
a pink waterfall
a river losing its way to the sea
blue stones of shimmering flint
there was a candle flickering
untamed
in the mass
and a huge featherless baby-bird bursts wet from the memory of a ribcage
and howls
i see slowly moving mountains
fine lines of white quartz
tunnels with no way back
i see a single matchstick twiddling its moustaches
awaiting a striker
a bed of velvet cushions and rose-pink petals
i see many hands
pulling
i see a child dressed all in white
i see eyes
everywhere
and deer
i see horse-heads and sandstone and ropes
i see screaming and laughing
and birth.
—
i whisper
“i see you.”
and she says
“i feel it”
– love from only skin
Related Blogposts
The self-decline bastion of human rights, rises above, But gravity makes angels fall, They chased Lilith out of pardes Arguments for killing of one another’s kin, She here white money whispering about a could, dead and flemming goal In the end we might be hurte and after hurte there is…
I am interested in dedicated, extended processes in a group, like long-term relationships, like Club de la Faye’s ‘Rituel du Papillon’ project, like Pina Bausch worked with her family of dancers, like Frank recording an album. Where the unique inner culture is shaped, where unwritten law is clear to everyone…