assure your worm

shit filigrees will replace the misconceived leaf

born from a second-hand affair


there will be no regret

because there wasn’t ever any right action


comfort your skin in the touch of your impaired Snow White

laughing together out of imbecile nothings


the mirror will say

Frau Sneewittchen, Ihr seid die Schönste hier,

Aber über den Bergen…



I foresee the frustration of misunderstanding and loneliness

as well as priceless tenderness


and then

You too, hypocrite lecteur! – mon semblable – mon frère !

will you dig it up?


know that

a thousand graves watch me from the shelves

and no word has been