Circles

A secret turning in us
makes the universe turn.
Head unaware of feet,and feet head.
Neither cares.
They keep turning.

Walk to the well.
Turn as the earth and the moon turn,
circling what they love.
Whatever circles comes from the center.

-- Jelaluddin Rumi

Ecstatic Circles and Smoke

There is something tragic and beautiful about destroying one's self.

The destruction has to be slow. Slow and luxurious. The smoke has to be inhaled slowly. Let out slowly. Enjoying every second of small, self-inflicted wounds.

Indulgence is good. Intoxication is not God. But it comes quite close.

I'm losing control...
And I am whirling in an ecstatic circle.

I want more.

"Liebe"

Holes in a hand
Do not hold water.
From a lake of silver faith,
A prayer falls through the holes.
She cannot hold
the heart of his existance
in her outstretched fingers.
On a cold,blue square
of 5am,
someone looks out the window,
And dreams of running horses.
The girl with the holes in her hand
And the boy on the brink of knighthood,
Dream together
and watch the sky writhe as light
twists its way out.
Fingers whisper their way to their lips
And ear lobes do little magic tricks
with her gold hoops.
She cannot hold the water
And for once, the holes do not fail her.
Her knight and her running horses
Cannot walk on water.
The age of Messiahs is long gone
And nobody wants to drown anymore.
She cannot disclose her secret
And she ties it to her bosom like a baby:

That She knows how to walk on water.
And still desires to drown.