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death poem

sie in der Schwärzungsversammlung und bitten
ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes
bis zu ihrem Raumfenster
ich weiß, was Sie sagen werden
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
Geräusche, die sich bemühen heftig zu zerreißen
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
verbessern Sie als Granit
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
auf und ab geht ihn
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
einige windigere Tage

 



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