Thursday, June 14, 2012

Looking out over the silent city
Behind glass
and young illusions

I wipe my damp breath
Off the window
I grow
Older

A bird lands
And flutters his dark wings
As he flies off

Behind double glazing

I shall stay up here
lost in the nothingness of time

Untill my brain falls out
And I can happily dream about the sweet blossom smell below;

Peach
Fig
Plum

Their scents tickles in my ear;
Time to get fucked up
Pretend we still are important

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