dinsdag 19 augustus 2008


I’m not a great conversationalist
I can see it in the way you press down the corners of your lips
We are like angels shedding their feathers
lying there slowly breathing
motionless on the river banks

I watch you being ridden into the sunset in a baggage coach
In Hayward they went wayward
There’s a ghost in the machine and in time

I dreamed of love in abundance
I wanted to shake the tree until fruit fell down
From Dharma to Vishnu
Kamma/Vipāka, Kali to Annatä
Looking for something the already found me
Are you real?
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