Читать книгу All my Howling Days are Quiet - Peter Wyss - Страница 5

I surrender

to your

bleak beauty

your gravity

tears my

heart apart

The moonlight

is a language

written on the

thin paper of

the night

for all the words

reason will never

grasp

Moonlit mushrooms

convey significance

like silver letters

growing in the night

It was full moon in her again

and she touched him with

phosphorizing light

The moon was

in her eyes

and he couldn't

look away

I keep forgetting things

but I will never forget when

you leaned your bleak light

over me and showed me your

dark side

Nothing disappears

everything is replaced

even you

that's what the moon

told me

What made her

so beautiful

was the presence

of the moon

I thought you wouldn't come

along but you did

we went deep into

the night

through all the landscapes

of whom we once were

just to see the moonlight

shiver in the grass

and whisper silver

words

I wonder

does the moon

touch you as gently

as it touches

the morning dew

or does it stab

your heart

from behind