
Driving to the north again
this time not to stand still and wait
alone
but to collect

Driving to the north again
this time not to stand still and wait
alone
but to collect

I see the tension
especially where it is close to us

I sometimes look down
and get dizzy
from my stance

I know there is one big reason why you don't change
your viewpoint
but what if I start loosening
your reasons

It is easy to see what you miss
not where you lost it

I wish I could open every door
so I could leave my mark behind

From above
work seems easy

A collection of wooden planks
nails and work
the ingredients written down
a long past ago
still we use it
we are hardly changed

I love the story a picture can tell
even if you don’t know what you see
it’s because we are so used to it

I forged raw iron till it reflected
what I could not see straight on
it costs me half a life
but what half?

I looked at it so closely
that I didn’t know what I was looking at

I walked along the fence
in search of an opening
but all I found
was a board on the floor
an opening too small
I could only look through
at the darkness inside
forever it seems

I almost mist the hidden door
because I was looking for a way out

I don’t recognize my shadow
when it sneaks up from behind
or stares me in the face
I just now it’s always there
in a different form
but me

View from the couch
where else do you have the best view?

I live in an abandoned building
I think
the echo speaks to me