sunday paper reading at night

Der Deutsche Designer — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 02:24:32 +0000

she walks in the forest,
far into the deepest lions mouth, covered from fog, she looks for you,
hunting them down with lenses, smiling over misery,
trying to lure you to her place,
her oddest fear, though as it lures, it is to be close,
as she climbs its trees, laughs its faintest autumn leaf,
the further she goes,
covered from the world, loved, under all her rubble,
it has to be covered,
a child playing on the garage door,
looking for the queen,
where has she been,
its in her house, she gets her strength,
her loneliness dig deep into her heart,
what is there to be found, no one will ever know,
as she walks in the forest,
sitting over the glister silence,
animals screaming, fornicating, for their life, short, undetected
rain started to sip on the decks of the naked tent,
waiting for the next day to begin,
she goes further to stop in her own little world,
civilizations are short lived, by airports waiting lounges,
she stares out of windows,
sitting over the waiting chairs, for the speakers blur message of loved ones,
another flight to catch, only to find,
her home is far, with her lens on her bosoms,
the words are listened and taped to her sweet young mouth,
she walks in the forest,
far into the deepest lions mouth,
looking for her heart to beat one more time

Nico Zahn » world civilizations

sunday paper reading at night