Your cry hangs in the air

 

A cry sounds one morning

from the captive's barrel

from the cellar of twilight

is there any salvation

are the colors left a wrinkle

or are our common

emptied

oh so beautiful ivy-green breath

only the wilderness can whisper like that

drops rule over seasickness

our feet count

other holes' sick days

and that's all

all we have of breath

all wishes are gone

and when you cycle away

is the way your cry

is the way your cry

hangs in the air

an audacity death cycles fearlessly

through my throat

and out in the bog and in the middle of the heath

the guillotine stands

hours when we fell out of fame

there hang the overcoats

and you are the widow

whom only hoarseness can touch

drops rule over seasickness

our feet count

other holes' sick days

and that's all

all we have of breath

all wishes are gone

and when you cycle away

is the way your cry

is the way your cry

hangs in the air

a boldness death cycles fearlessly

through my throat

and out in the bog and in the middle of the heath

the guillotine

stands

there meets someone

its headless oblivion

that counts all our steps.