Vicinity, that I can grab.
I'm not naked, like what flees me.
Flees. And I beg:
Fields in green!
I would like to be buried in grass,
then. Later, later…
In a stalk, the sparks fly.
Like foam on moss
the dream sleeps off, white and bitter,
That’s how it was in the land of milk and honey,
when I got so much more
als Chocolate Mousse
than this Tinder meal.
A horse sniffs me
Lonely as the blink of an eye,
looking for hay.
As if it were wise.
And no air train rolls through the tulip track.
Sew red, Near reddish, Near rose blue.
comes the night and my light
flashes,
My light, that is starving of closeness,
My light, that like hope,
squeezes itself into your stalk.
Oh, I useless bike,
Engine tied to the most romantic
Fluff.
The battery slowly drops,
and my scooter falls by the wayside,
smell like rapeseed and beets.
And fields ground me
I have so little ground,
A light, that never goes out,
Not as long as there are grasses.
And this fountain.
Blablabla…..
