Noch keine Tags.
I want to write you into writing
invent a long-deserted looted room
invent a window wide ajar
in went a wind that traveled far
that lays a cord into our gloom
the night outside try out the lighting
the fragile flicker of a newborn star
the fragile wrist that moves the plume
that child that will outshine the tomb
that wakes dead poets on a par
no one disturb our four-hand typing