|Massif de la Chartreuse by Walter Ruhlmann|
You say you want me inside you
but you don’t know what’s inside me.
The roguery, the erratic wolf craving for
What’s happening inside ourselves
always erupts and bursts outside,
in the shades of some unfathomable shelters
where we cherish the sheer moments of calm.
Now you're there, looking for me,
absolutely nothing could reassure you;
humming like I used to in the time
when we blossomed.
The mountains encircle neuralgia,
clear water is springing from their flanks
like dark blood is spurting from a corpse.
Nostalgia are at peace with themselves
but they will never leave us unharmed.
Let's collapse in the deep corridors of mercy
and burrow through a chemical shroud,
or a shredded duvet.
from Fandango, to be published at Urtica in 2018