smash.
noise.
crack.
broken glasses
on the otherwise supposed
good, sweet and dreamy cube house.
the full house
getting injured once again
and its all over the places.
glass pieces on your brain,
and now only life to get them out,
– what life, but?
bleed the house!
empty house makes grin grow.
only then
– acception i mean, you see?
will the floor briefly smooth around us
and then finally:
band-aids,
followed by our incarnated relationships being
vulnerable and dialectical.
now, god damn it! hell on earth:
forward we go.
