3.05.2012

untitled


I was taught from my first tooth
To turn onions clockwise
And that the night is a beautiful bearded lady
Lactating dreams

Later I was taught that love is not forever
And that we are born to die in the arms of strangers
When dawn finally breaks a new pallet of snow
Will turn to rust in hours
And the beauty in a new green leaf holds the memory
Of hope

4 comments:

  1. Intriguing images all around. "...a memory of hope.." It is as though one has lost something or some part of one's self. And yet one still recalls having it once. A feeling that vanished or died. One remembers that and longs for it, or one mourns for it.

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  2. Great work Robert. Especially enjoyed this one.

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