Ocean June 19, 2014 10:07:09 PM – 10:10:09 PM

I sat and listened to the blue, blue sky, the laundry and the pigeons, seagulls, swallows (were they really swallows?). Do we have the same eyes? Parts of your dreams fell out between your lips. Darkness gathers outside and I feel your heart against my skin. Everything behind everything. A dark being oozes from my mouth and seems quiet.

I kissed a summer’s blush of dawn. It doesn’t matter. Now I sail on dawn’s canopy of light.

Ocean June 19, 2014 9:55:49 PM – 9:56:58 PM

Out in the brightness of day, I found a handful of glittering, glittering diamonds.

Everything can shift shape, can change, can transform. The chair I sat on creaked in the sun. In every day, remnants of meaning slid along with me. Darkness we just called darkness and let its blanket pull itself into the day like a turbulent cloud filled with the most fragile gravity.

Your diamonds shine in my mouth.

Conversation June 19, 2014 9:54:05 PM – 9:55:46 PM

A shy room, an intimate room. In the night a distant voice had almost fallen asleep.

The water and everything that grows so strangely out of the blue. You dragged me down to the outermost mountains. I have written you a map. I listened with my lips, let my lips write faraway countries into your wrists. To speak was too much. Resisted, but wrote: nothing. On the bus I wrote a text message for you.

Landscape June 19, 2014 9:51:47 PM – 9:54:01 PM

But my language was not hostile.

The movement on the surface would make the words disappear. Nothing is deeper than the skin?

On a window pane. Sun storm. Which night followed the night? I wrote myself into a frenzy back then. When I wrote your name in the shadows, a ray of sun fell through my window. When I read a boring poem, I read a boring poem and it struck me: The summer was quite all right after all, autumn and winter.

Conversation June 19, 2014 9:50:16 PM – 9:51:44 PM

In a different autumn, I would have been embarrassed by sampling. On the bus I wrote a text message for you. Can I write like that?

Write me into your lips. In every day, remnants of meaning slid along with me. You say something about the sun.

I had not yet met you. Sentences are an ocean. You dragged me down to the outermost mountains. I don’t want to lose you, I whispered in your dream, and let my heart beat softly against your body.

Ocean June 19, 2014 9:43:15 PM – 9:45:14 PM

I love to wake up and see you wake up. A line threatened to intervene in my thoughts, to seduce my thoughts, terrify my thoughts. Later, one of the following nights, as we followed each other down through each our idea of it, I could no longer hide the words, the sentences, the images.

Ord. In the night a distant voice had almost fallen asleep. We were still, we were still quivering, quivering down to the smallest details.

Ocean June 19, 2014 9:42:22 PM – 9:43:11 PM

The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit. The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit. In the evening, the light seemed to move closer to my skin and there is a happiness flickering in front of my eyes. The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit.

The northern lights quivering in your voice. The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit. The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit.

The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit.

Conversation June 19, 2014 9:17:32 PM – 9:19:01 PM

In the darkness, diamonds, your eyes. Notes. Descriptions. This is not a game.

The coffee I am drinking is mild in its taste. I lay there listening to your heart.

A line threatened to intervene in my thoughts, to seduce my thoughts, terrify my thoughts.

Something opened up. I have written you a map.

Ocean June 19, 2014 9:11:51 PM – 9:15:15 PM

Here the day is already far ahead of me.

Glass millions of years old in the luminous desert. I’m just waiting around for the fucking sun. Now my dreams drift into a gentler, better time. It is all about the surface, I sailed around on the surface of everything. Darkness gathers outside and I feel your heart against my skin. Here the day is already far ahead of me. Like sitting on the palm of your hand watching your uvula break the horizon.

Landscape June 19, 2014 9:07:12 PM – 9:08:49 PM

Next to my one foot an open book was engaged in light conversation with the wind. In the night a distant voice had nearly fallen asleep. For every layer of meaning in the stones.

Suddenly one night, giraffes fell from your dreams. Who was it that wrote: This is what my dreams looked like at the time. The movement on the surface would make the words disappear. When I woke up, my dreams had always left a trap behind.