The falling

The falling


The floor
of the dark room
without
the walls
and without
the ceiling
it's somewhere
it's nowhere -
anywhere,
never mind
the calmness
and quietness
and the wisper
of two thousand
people
and the buzzing
in the ears
and suddenly
silence
total
and endless

And you.
Your appearance
From the whole
disappearance.

Your dance
like a dying
your white dress
your dim eyes
and pupils-dilated
a fog all around you
your smile and
and your pale hands
in whirling
in spinning
in falling
in going
into
ecstasies

the faces
in the mirrors
the shadows
in the mirrors
the candels
in the mirrors
the doors
in the mirrors
the mirrors
in the mirrors

and i'm loosing
my own side
myself
in your slow dance.
i'm falling asleep
and wake up
in a new dream
and so on
and so on
and so on

the corridors widen
the corridors narrow
the running
the lying
are equal
in whirling.

the buzzing
the crying
the streem
of the cold water.
your are
the stream
of the cold water,
the queen
of the falling,
the peak
of the pleasure,
and the suffering
medium.


your white dress
like white light
like part
of
the emptiness.
i'm falling
i'm falling
on pupils-dilated
take me
and join me.
the touch
of the cold
fingers -

and the corridors widen
the corridors narrow
the corridors widen
the corridors narrow
the corridors widen
the corridors narrow
stop whirling
stop running
stop dying
your're lying

wake up
wake up
wake up
it's over
everything's over,
your finges are cold.

Wake up
wake up
wake up