Taste Like Senseless
“Ob sie’s begreifen? Morgeni Spaterr Nie? ”
Suddenly we start stoning
Blindfolds on and off
Slashing skylines
Blistered stars
Nothing is real
When everything is real
Now we have everything
For real
Tearing pages of
unwritten memoir
Sand we are
Salted time in a line
Some dreams six feet under
Some dreams underwater
That is the question
We chose not to answer
Morning unfolds
Slaughtered instances
We are still sleeping
No moon, no star
01.2020.
By Aran Meredith.
