„The horror of having a body is that of hoping for it to last long enough to fulfill the dream within the head“, I tell my witch over our midnight tea.
Let us cook the blood out of these sheets
and season it
with kisses and with tears.
In a world made of last times
let us ask for
just another time.
Because one day this body
will break
and there will be no skin
for you to touch
and no shoulder
and no chest
for you to rest your head upon
and breathe.
If not for this one moment to be felt
and for Dystopia love
to be fulfilled
then what was this body
even made for?
Just for
skin to burn
and blood to clot
and flesh to ache?
„In a world made of last times, let‘s ask for just another time“, my witch agreed with me and for a moment it soothed the sensation of falling apart, and I hoped that it would keep me together long enough to make it for just another moment.
My witching autumn desk
This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…
Why do we stop doing things?
“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…
When we fall …
Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…
