novemberzwanzigzwanzig

In suspense
Between
Constantly sitting situated being
In rooms whose walls are so white
Like the skin of the privileged
There is still room for fantasy, imagery
And
There is still much to come
Trust and postponement
Of longings for an indefinite time
At times hours, long days
Spend four in shared flat kitchen
Knees drawn up, hands placed around warming cups
Which one cooks for another
So they sit, look out of windows
Into golden months
Exchange words, opinion, smiles
About pedagogy, poetry and politics
Beetroot risotto
One speaks of organic supermarkets
Aromatic teas
Chattering about objectified woman on product label
An hour of singing, instruction via Zoom
Muffled penetrating under door frame
Most honest undressing, laying down of armour, protection – shame the theme
Games, films, election evening
Bach, Rachmaninoff, Chopin
Now and then one in the room
Hours, days long
Possibly bearer of the
Possibly endangerer
Whom one treats with care, lovingly with kid gloves
Walk through alleys of the yellow, red spotted
One tells each other what one plans when
This golden-yellow world–
Future scenario, la vie en rose
At the blue hour longings arise
There sit four, who have great
Imagination is a half-full glass
La dolce vita they drink as a rule unsuspectingly
Liquid elixir joie de vivre, purchasable in the supermarket in a carton
Shimmering soap bubble, in which one waits there, drinks tea, reads time
Four, who are exclusive, speak inside about outside
Society – queered, isn't it
In November this year
Beloved November
Well unicum actio
This sketching of figures,
Rooms
Which possibly at some point play leading roles
Squeaking parquet,
Erthalstraße 20, new habitat
Eyes that imitate autumn foliage lights
Smiles getting lost on mouths
At the thought of
Promise
What la dolce, this life brings
Warm air through balcony door – novembertwentytwo