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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-02-16 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
live with me without order,
in the perpetual fall of the dead leaves, in a berlin exile without a wall. on unter den linden we will invent the new dada togetherness. we will torture words until they speak only what we need to hear – i love you explosion poetry yellow glass stone headache contour hair-locks oblivion sex angels wine – i love you. my tongue will carve my name on your shoulder, i shall purr a bit curled up in the lap of faith. sentiments will inhale paint thinner in the train stations of so many break-ups and we will get crushed by the aquatic trunk of the fog. two flowers in-between the pages of the night.
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