The glow you exude, my dear,
by simply sitting in your castle,
makes the whole world jealous.

I can hear your words in the wind,
but I have no codebook.

Are you there, God?
I can’t let go, I can’t!
But you’re not mine

Tell me, did she cut her hair?
Send me a wisp
I need it for witchery

You shine, my dear
yet the whole world still longs for you

These grey streets tell me
you still love me,
and the dry scent of vanilla starts spreading


Traffic lights wake me from dreams
I wish to give to someone new

I flinch!
If you deserve this poem, my dear
I’ll sing it to the wind


Years have flown by, lingering
It feels like all this time
I have been lying in the same sheets
while your hair covered me
although, you’ve never left your tower

neither on earth nor in heaven

You’ve gazed at many eyes
as if they were mine
but they all faded

I’m not yours
I’m not yours
But you don’t let go


Spider on the ceiling
Now some other thighs warm mine
Lights in the Boulevard go out
Another morning without you dear
But for a long time now
ur stare doesn’t hurt


No lights in the tower


Do you ever drink for the old times
as if I was by your side
on Tuesdays, at midnight?


I raise my glass but
it doesn’t weigh the same
I can’t let go
I can’t let go

A broken mirror lies somewhere
in Nikola Tesla Boulevard
or by the sea


Traffic lights now wince me from the dreams
I have no one to give to
Her thighs aren’t like yours


Spider on the ceiling
I buckle my belt
The black and white of the piano
smells of resin


I cut your hair out of my apartment
and washed your skin off my hands
and my mind

You didn’t even know
I left you to the grey
Freezing your imagination
and laid you down sleeping
on the stone slabs of your rising

I am keeping your flaws secret
Stay perfect to the world

Don’t let go
of the memory of a rare glance
This world couldn’t bare more