Look at her
She's all broken
Pieces of nerve
Bundles of disgust
A swollen bag of loneliness
Finding her pleasure along, as
She rolls over her wounds

Underneath is liquid
All around is grey
She rolls in colors, but
The trace grays* back again

There's no sound
She's silent
Not waiting for anything
To be said or heard

There's no light
She is blinded
Not eager to see, but
To be enlightened

Don't call her name
She's not identified
Lost in chains of letters, numbers, shapes
She can't stamp herself one

Don't ask what she likes
She likes the liking of things, which
Fade away before they appear

'Moments have to be enjoyed'�
They turn into unbearable hours

'Life has to be lived'�
It dies within every second

'Love should be discovered'�
It evaporates from simplicity
So present everywhere



Globe angles into a cube
She is suffocating
Turning blue

Don't approach her
She's infectious




------------------
Haifisch


*Grays back again: turns into gray

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