When I get home from Sunday Service, I strip my pressed white shirt in the living room. I step out of my slacks. Peel off the tight black socks. I fumble naked for my dive skin, the black and blue ... [+]
Endless ring, merciless jewel,
from the beginning to the end.
I don't remember much about those days
of hiking through the forest
and touching the moon with my fingertips.
My almost wife told me once:
I will never forget you, and I
said: I will never forgive
you. The blood dropped from your forehead.
Like the gold on that old rock that they stole from me.
"You're rich" they said, and that’s why they killed me.
Erased me, forgot me,
like a blurry word in a book that no one ever liked
to read.
from the beginning to the end.
I don't remember much about those days
of hiking through the forest
and touching the moon with my fingertips.
My almost wife told me once:
I will never forget you, and I
said: I will never forgive
you. The blood dropped from your forehead.
Like the gold on that old rock that they stole from me.
"You're rich" they said, and that’s why they killed me.
Erased me, forgot me,
like a blurry word in a book that no one ever liked
to read.