What is there to talk about? Between us?

I let silence arise and convolution.

My head in your clouds.

My wings turned useless.

I thought I buried everything.

And you’d return to the site, digging and preying.

 

What I let go of was lifeless, for me.

Insubstantial, empty and broken punchlines.

Words that were never mine, yet crossed my lips.

You look at me and reach out,

But I stare at your hand and I

Want to run away as fast as I can.

Jaroslav_Vrchlický,_Maxmilián_Pirner_-_Démon_láska_-_1893_-_Image_XII

Čeština: Obrázek XII. z knihy Démon Láska.” by Maxmilián Pirner (1853-1924)

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