touch the paintings which shift into colours
and theres tiles this place is ugly and bare
we live without water
but we are water
and the stink wafts ugly and black
like a cloud but our heads are outside
we belong in these forests
these forests of life
who protect us
with their limbs
but we go for the future
recklessly wandering the cities
without emotion
numbly floating
to a destination outside our hearts
sexually following a state of emergency
our ears explode
to an ocean which calls us in
to protect
what exists in these heads
is more or less the same
why do they move the way they do
these little cities
powering inside our brains
so much in the dark
with no violins playing
anymore.
no music to build suspense
just some silence
which spins figures in the sky.
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