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death poem

um Mitternacht
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
während ich das Hören stand, diskret dumb
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
in ihren zackigen regimentals
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
kein Opfer sind ich der schlechten Gedanken
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze

 



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