rhetoricus

ruhe, meine seele

all the leaves on the trees
are wrong.
the winged birds
are wrong,
and the white and gray clouds
are wrong.

the waves are wrong.
the grass is wrong.
the rocks and stones
are wrong, wrong.

it was waiting in my mouth,
viy,
and you never took it,
on my lips,
and you never touched it.

the mind is wrong.
the flesh is wrong.
the mind is flesh,
and the flesh is wrong.