the egoist

it’s no big deal to have your forehead concealed under the hillock
your toes beneath orange crocuses/ in reality you were there
since always
no one could see something else
only you turned over the furrowed earth every day
within your own body you were declared missing a long time ago
like a splinter from a painted war chariot on a Greek vase
you were one of the chosen few buried before being born

you loved life with your empty soul and your forefinger on your eyebrow
you loved beautiful women who always seemed to smile
you loved wicker baskets and lamppost lights
frost flowers at the window/ warm mulled wine in your hand
Bible quotes sewn on towels/ potatoes baked in their own skin
wild horses trotting on the river’s plain and only sometimes
Cassiopeia

because man sees the light only twice in his life but forgets this
much too soon

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Categories: My poems in 2016 | Tags: | Leave a comment

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