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I am stretched on your grave
somewhere out of the world
I want to stalk you
from the crack of dawn
until the bell tolls
when
the reduced number of colours
in both the horizontal and vertical direction
tell me I do not fit
but don't I just know it

Tear on a Warm Tape

my face will never show
what is not real
my eye will never ever keep me cool
special secret hidden inside
in a language I don't understand
passing slowly the redness of my shirt
slipping by mistake into my shoes
in a perfect Spanish scrawl
I could have lied
when you had to go away
and I don't care
if you suck my kiss
this is the place
I could die for you

Birdy

today 

I saw a small bird 

sitting on my window-sill
it was so beautiful

not conscious the surrounding danger
I admired 

it's coloured wings 

and wanted to help

it reminded me 

a better world

took me 

to my dreamland

neverending land 

of happines love and peace
with no bad stuff we 

have here

I've heard a shoot
it was the last time
I saw this bird

at least my stomach is full now

The Train of Perfumes

without breakfast my delusions
just a soft sadness

and I know that we are

with a pressed button

that the picture sound scent

next generation television

in high definition and on demand

in red in green

knocks in my vein

and they can't see us

the train of perfumes pushes and kicks

back to the clocks

Blink

the shadow of your eyes
casts a thin blue line
on the surface of my thoughts
a German wine massages
the half opened palate

a day and an age of the million of my lives
rolled with a professional opinion
the emptinesses howled all full of
scream of the glued together lips

a feather between the chair and the ceiling
and my undercovered consciousness
I burn for you
with the unspoken words
and I am afraid to blink
in fear you may disappear

A Time

a time
when the spotlight dawn
will wrap us tight
passing the day leftovers
from our eyelids

will shower our heads
with stars
soothing us
with its mahogany dream

a time
when beyond a dream flight
will carry us
far above the city's chimneys

will undress us
of the tight fabric of our skins
will seduce us
and still unknown will undercover us

and will cuddle us
will rock us to sleep