kiss you
plunge my mouth in your hair
until it is full of you
hold you
put my arm around you
next to me
on the black leather bench
on the marble-topped table
where my booklet lies
my cigarette box
the moon is a sick egg sunny-side-up
in blue light fried on toast
but who can eat here anyway?
in the redlighted yellowish greeni coloured "stadtbahn"
back then, you went with the knife
in the mouth from table to table
now you are licking my face
and I grab your halter so young
we will not come back
as grainy as
in the picture you are black
in the blurry
we are
...
beautiful