smilla lisanne kolbe

you make flowers grow
in my mind

they fit, but my senses do not offer
enough

space.

all these roots.
my thoughts take uo their thirst
wanting more.
more of what?

they can't find it
anywhere outside.
instead they reach
deeper inside
through heart, heart, belly
to place their roots

impossible to remove.

visiting a place
that used to be
home
is loaded with ghosts.
is empty
for the visitor.
is a place
of warmth
for those who stay.
a place
is a place
for bystanders.

i know places
i can't go
to anymore.

Der Himmel ist über 1,80m groß und kühl.
Manchmal scheint die Sonne
und das aufrichtig.
Der Regen versteckt sich immer hinter angelehnten Türen,
dahinter Mauern.
Mauern aus Büchern, offenen,
deren Sprache mir oft zu fremd ist.
Je mehr Zeit ich zwischen Mauern,
den Büchern mit unleserlichen Gedanken verbringe,
desto glücklicher,
zugleich trauriger werde ich.

Ich möchte keinen Ausgang.
Ich fühle mich wohl zwischen
den Büchern und den Mauern,
die sie bilden,
da mir auch die fremden Worte nicht mehr unüberwindbar erscheinen.
Ich studiere Satz für Satz,
Wort für Wort
und fühle mich dem Himmel näher.
Der Himmel ist über 1,80m groß und endlos in der Tiefe.

i'm tearing up
across your face
move dust through the light
to fide your name
it's something fane
this is not a place
not yet awake
i'm raised to make

still alive, who you love.

If you place two
anatomical hearts
against each
other
you get a heart,
the one you would
draw.
the crude
(expression of)
love,
the one that is
taught to kids.
something as
complex
as the heart
of living creatures
gets simple and
explainable
when two get
together.

enjoying solitude
is difficult
when you have
to pay attention
to other people
('s feet.)
so you don't.
(run them down)

I keep this
us
in secret

you are
i am
the weak
the strong
in unite
in balance
our bench
changed places.
we do, too.
constantly
changing.
always
remembering
the missing
half
when not
side by side.
i hope
you feel
it too
i hope
you feel
me
when i am
not near.
i feel you
next to me
far away.

Das Verständnis für den Himmel
kriegt man nicht auf Seite 1,
der Anfang ist tief im Inneren.
Es ist kein Labyrinth, dessen objektiver Ausgang schwer zu finden ist.
Der Ausgang befindet sich hinter jeder Ecke,
in jede Richtung.
"Beachten Sie den Abstand zwischen Zug und Bahnsteigkante"
hallt durch die Gemäuer,
denn der subjektive Ausgang ist gleichzeitig ein freier Fall.

our soap broke in two
agressive handwashing after
jejune metaphors after
radio silence.
i mended it
but the fracture remains
perceptible

I took off petal after petal, as if you were a rose, in order to see your soul, and I didn’t see it.

I took off petal after petal, as if you were a rose, in order to see your soul, and I didn’t see it.

I took off petal after petal, as if you were a rose, in order to see your soul, and I didn’t see it.