everything is okay.
no, really, it is.
the questions remain but still,
i live them
there are things i wish i´d done differently
but in the end, look, how white the snow
how purple the sky
how deep the stars
how tender your smile

türkis ist oft geklebt. zwei risse gehen schon durch meinen stein.
und augen lügen nicht.
vielleicht bilde ich mir alles auch nur ein.
aber augen lügen nicht.
vielleicht meine ich das alles nur.

meine augen lügen nicht.

ein hof, häuserschluchten. die nacht zeichnet wolken wie gischt.
das ein-sam sein bringt ruhendes ahnen
es raunt wie ein leiser wind
: du bist wie ein wetterleuchten. ein luftbote von dem, was zwischen himmel und erde möglich ist.
be-geg-nung. im dir gegenüber Sein leuchte ich sanft
das glühen flüstert mir
es flüstert mir
: morgen ist im dämmern
morgen ist hier.

this takes longer than expected but to no surprise. the repercussions of your touch linger in my mind, every cell seems to remember well, every inch of this room seems to have captured the magic to spill it slowly into the soft slumber of my dreams. i bet i am exaggerating. i just don´t know the limits anymore, maybe everything seems enhanced and bigger than life to me these days. maybe the mediocrity doesn´t register with a starved soul. despite the obligatory doubts i feel perfectly swell: the tides crush in and out and second thoughts appear to no avail: they can´t really perturb my yearning. with a swift move the waves made of sighs and moon beams and fairy tales wash away what doesn´t belong: thy queendom may come.

so i look at his young eyes and the inherent loveliness and tenderness and his soft soul. there is a strength behind this insecurity that i well know. for now, i can´t really reach across the divide - i am still caught in my web of dreams nestled in the memory of a man who may never know who i am.

you walk into the room and i instantly know that i like you. little do i know that we will both enter a reality beyond the stomping feet and wooden floors and smokey rooms and whirling music soon thereafter. when you hold me in your arms i feel small and safe and yet like a woman. your hands do most of the talking and they know all the secrets and stories and wounds. i wonder how it´d be to feel somebody when you´re blind. just close your eyes and you will see. there aren´t really words to complete this story. an encounter so real and beautiful that it defies all distances and what if´s and do not´s and should have´s. it fills my lungs with longing to breathe in and breathe out more intensely. more real. to feel that kind of awareness and appreciation and support. your eyes withstand my depths. you can measure my words with knowledge of the heart. you smile.

maybe that´s what he meant by diving into the grieving process.
your absence suddenly hits me with a force I haven´t known. It isn´t so much the question of how to relate to you beyond the visible yet but more of how to deal with the moment of your passing and wrapping my mind around everything that that entailed.

I am so confused.
So infused with dark blue sadness


The mental structures are such: it is okay to die. It was a beautiful way to die. It was your time. There are great mysteries. I want to relate to the invisible. I want to build bridges

The actual process is:


so FUCKING SAD that it breaks my heart.

Your yearning ripped a hole into my wall of defense. With your hands painting images that were directly taken from dreams I tend to forget in the mornings and your voice expressing a tremble so subtle but yet powerfully substituting lyrics, music and sculptures who had fed my longings oh so well for way too long. Now I am leaking all my wounds and my own yearning my hopes and desires and needs and wants and lacks and everything with you gone. I seek your essence everywhere, yet again, not willing to seek it in its transformed properties as I have for so long. So I have to write and be patient and bear with being thrown back at myself yet again, bear the feeling of utter loneliness in the midst of a storm. So I walk straight, walk the walk. Walk, straight. Walk the walk. Walk straight, patiently. Trusting. Trusting. Trusting. Feeling endlessly blessed for this life and these friends I have found.

Slowly I come back into the middle All these doors - they lead further away. For now I am happy to look for keys for that little dusty door that leads further down into my soul. I know I am connected. I know Joseph was right. Sometimes I have a longing to be gone as well, to have passed the threshold already but this feeling is counterbalanced with feelings of curiosity and joy towards this life in this body under these circumstances. It´s the same ambivalence I feel towards pregnancy and giving birth to a child, - while I actually would welcome it I am totally glad that it hasn´t happened to me as of yet. Same goes for death. Before she embraces me with her dark soft wings I want to sing, sing, sing.