nude into the enraptured
forbidden sea, behalf the whisper,
its madness in autumn at its wake,
unknown into the burial of yellow roses,
in the tears of ghostly sands,
tossing from forgotten sea light
silhouetted against torn anamnesis
these shadows of our time,
in etiolated remembrance,
our memories are hidden.
the sanctity of blood
that beneath we cut
the waterfall—parallels the blue bluster—
like the blackened, filigree guitar
pouring from the sunlight sonata
dreamed the appareled death.
sense of brambles, eaten hysteria
through every forgotten fallen hour
that blinds us so light like a lover,
but it will be forgotten in the star-thrush
through the valley of winter’s emblem of poetry.
the open sea of flowers
earth wanes from its breast
emerges permanent existence
tracing dreams, cold,
as the trees are defenseless
and darkness ends,
we can emerge
glided through the cities
alone or together again
at least one day.
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