Stalker (revisited)

stalker 3.tif

Unconscious compassion
Folded into my palm
Like a five-fingered fluff

Difficult childhood, bad environment
And the stars of the sky
I get wounded.

Just a few words with you.
they gobble up both my heart and soul.
Day, like glass, washed all clear

The boy was so delicate,
as sackcloth made of hair.
No limbs broken rough.

Your innermost wishes
And what’s most awful
gets through to our heart.

My mother used to say:
I have no wish to pour my filth
Some gift.

Have you seen a single man
Or maybe, my innermost
Have you fallen from the moon?

If I begin recalling my life
There cannot be happiness
I thought it all up later.

You may travel light, if you wish
He realized that and hanged himself.
I can’t wait for you forever.

Pliancy and weakness are
are death’s companions.
Leaving no epitaph.

The flowers are blooming again
The guards have arrived.
something broke in him.

and try to recall your whole life.
all that filth, kept for the time being
displayed in a museum.

There was a flower-bed nearby
And the moon became like blood
Prison is not the worst thing

the whole of mankind.
got empty eyes.
And all my efforts are just in vain.

and bringing laurel wreaths.
and making detours
is just a form of apologizing.


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