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■ Amphibien - Dystonie Kontakt |
Kommentare der Mitglieder
Leser: 11553
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| [Text in der Originalsprache: english]
the liberation from the past is not mine, father
the bottles aligned on the back of the memory still frighten me the clearness that you will be gone one day and I will not be able to mourn over you because a part of me broke the gratings of childhood and now it bites from ease and longing like from a poem which no one has called after oneself, from that fear when you take the metaphor to the river to wash away its meanings and a stream runs through the veins then you come back a stranger from the walls you yelled to up to aneurism my father is a painting changing angles after fragile dandelions and the feeling grows pagan from all disclosure I am still afraid of autumn caresses of unfolded leaves from the chromatic cheek I align my fears and wipe them in the cruelty of poppy flowers the words come out beating their chests where are you, father? you, who have lost me so many times until I loved you, when you grabbled through phantasy and the only bud bloomed from the tip of the brush orphan syllables come out of me and mother is as beautiful as you left her with lips full of ground only I doubt the sky, the love and the suburbs someday I shall come back, child, in a season wearing bundles of snow
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