eventually,
they all go,
one by one,
like paper boats
in a downpour
towards a drain.
along the gutter
they float,
effortlessly.
until they
disappear.
and you wonder
why they went
like that, and
what you did
so wrong.
inside of nowhere
i stood, wandering
whilst wondering what
it would be like to
stand amongst friends
and whether i even had
any. feeling more alone
in a crowded bar than
sitting by myself in my
armchair watching the
birds and feeling the
morning chill on my skin.
they wore flowers in
their hair and beards.
the grasses beneath our
feet quickly trampled flat.
i laughed along with them
but the man in front of me
could not see for a time.
memories have a tendancy
to grow branches longer
than their roots,
they invite us to climb and
explore until we ourselves
become entangled and forgotten.
ππππππ ππππ πππ ππππππ,
πππππ.
π ππππππ ππ ππ ππ πππ πππππππππππ,
πππππ.
(π ππππβπ ππππππ).
πβππ ππππ ππ πππππππππ
πππ’ππ ππππππ ππππ
πππππππ ππ πππππππ –
π πππ, π πππ ππππ ππππ ππππ.
ππππ.
πππ πππππ πππππππ?
π πβππ πππ ππ ππππ πππ.
ππ’ πππ πππππ ππ ππ ππ
ππ’πππππππππππππ’,
πππ ππππ ππ πππ πππππ’ πππ π.
π ππππ ππππππ π πππ π ππππππ’
ππππ ππππ π πππ πππ ππππππ
πππππ ππ π πππ, πππ πππ
ππππππ πππππ ππ’ ππππππ,
ππππππππ, ππππππππ, ππππππππ.
πππ ππππ ππππ, πππ πππ ππ
π ππππππ ππππ πππ ππ ππππππππ’
π ππππ ππππ πππ ππππ πππ
πππππππ ππππ, π ππππ
πππ ππππππ πππππ πππ ππ
ππππππ ππππππππ ππππππππ
πππππ – πππ πππππ’πππ
ππππππππ – πππππππ ππππππππππ
ππππ ππππ ππ ππ, πππππππ ππ’
πππππ, ππβππ ππ ππππ.
πππ ππππ ππππ πππππ ππ
πππππ πππ ππππ πππππππ
π πππ πππ ππππππ’.
πππ ππππ ππππ,
ππ π ππππ πππ ππ’πππππ
πππππ ππππ, πππ πππ
ππ πππ ππππ ππ ππ’ ππππππ,
πππ ππππ ππππ ππ πππππππππ,
πππ ππππ πππππ ππ ππ ππ
πππππππππ, ππ ππππ’ πππ’ ππππ’ πππππ,
ππππ π πππ ππ ππππππ,
πππππ ππ’ ππππππ,
π ππππ π ππππππ.
πππππππ ππ ππ’ π πππππ ππππ
πππππππ ππ, π πππππ π
ππππ πππ.
ππππππ πππ πππππππ
ππππππππππππ’ ππ πππ πππππ ππππ.
π π πππ ππ πππ πππ ππππ ππππππ
πππ ππππ ππ πππππππ ππππ πππ ππππ,
πππ ππππβπ πππ πππ π πππ ππππππ π πππ.
πππ πππππππ πππππβπ ππππππππ ππ.
πππ ππ πππππ π ππππππ ππππππππ πππ π ππ
ππ πππ ππππππ ππ πππ πππππ.
πππ πππππππ ππππππ
πππ π ππ ππππ π πππ πππ πππππππ ππ
ππππ πππ ππππππ πππππ.
behold the sea of absence,
behold the sea of centuries,
my blood kneeling on a
sunken tree,
and the arm of my anguish
pouring out into the
warm air.
i am, i am not.
i have been nothing more
than an empty place,
a place where my body and
your delirium suddenly
arrive and a muffled
voice that learns us
as a punishment.
lady of light,
i command you,
i beg you,
hear me speak with unvoice,
hear what i have unsaid,
with this love i love you,
with this i curse you,
the knife in my back,
broken.
THE LONELY WHITE WOLF 