We have cappuccino in a soup bowl and watch some boyfriend stealing jewels
in a barn until we are cleaned out. We let our feelings slowly drop down like molten metal,
because red will be unfashionable this summer and so will be honesty and lies.
They celebrate victory outside. Of what. Be paranoid, we stalk. We don’t need no CCTV.
Everything is quite extraordinary if you look at it through a magnifying glass.
Everything is pretty boring if you look at it through a magnifying glass again.
I love you, somewhat, or maybe not. And everybody else. When they use their little finger as an umbrella,
smile like they mean it – perhaps they simply rehearsed in front of a mirror for years.
There’s a funeral on the horizon, someone is burying the moon so that nights will be dark.
We’ve dissipated stars millennia ago but ancient practices have it that wasn’t soon enough.
It takes more than jumping into a well to drown the contradictions inside a shredded heart
because clouds in the desert just die, long before they ever weep.


2 responses to “Heliophobia”

  1. sara

    ëmmer wann ech Zaiten hun wou ech net vil schreiwen an déng Txter liesen kréihen ech rëm Loscht mech unzekuerbelen :)den doten as alt erëm wonnerschéin

  2. Merci! Du gleews guer net, wéivill mer dee Saz bedeit. Ech bewonneren souvill Auteuren dofir, dass se den Drang a mer ausléisen ze schreiwen, an sou wollt ech selwer schon emmer schreiwen.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *