in order to forget the language of love
you throw up your fingers into the glass bowl
before also draining your weightless head ..
soon you are blazed like a tree in the forest
and must from now on study and stare at the fish
as they knot their own dark nets
out there where the stitches may tear in the sun ..
for there are still dreams that happen in the dark
and disappear instead of cancelling the law of gravity
or inventing a landscape you have never seen
and where every mountain top exhibits an insidious color
which hides the blood hounds hidden in the text ..
even in the letters’ built-in flowers the pain lives
and in the reflexes the ocean returns to the glowing planet ..
only in the eyeballs’ fresh cheeks may the distance bathe
and our gazes stagger towards the upper treeline of experience
hunting for the sapphire light which blows out the night ..
is the earth really the encapsulated body of a woman
with breasts of flying stones and diamonds?
we hear our common heart fall from our breathing bridge in the clouds
and stare at the moon .. a brass button in the night’s black coat