Oct 29, 2014

writings in a nobook


V1995 0697

in my red days
I  overthrew so much to the wind,
I asked a lot of
for a lot I gave myself,
silent and shameless on my new hands -
with the moon under a hat
I stand on my hands;
all night I turn to  the Lord =
it is hard, that’s my fear-

that is a woman who picks dropped acorns,
brook that hails to the heights -
truth, freedom and another lie.-

-in the morning of their truth
may the good Lord be with you


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