eating and joy

uphold our arms by tasteless premium talking rights
the glamour of your lips don’t belong to the light
in your hand

I don’t think that the painting was wrong I merely
think that it didn’t say something I could not
comprehend

the painter appeared and touched us in a moment
of joy, love and faith aren’t meaningless but
careless bodies

don’t resemble our crystal ball

if I were you I would react instantly in a movement
of fashionless style neither style nor content nor
form would increase our meaningless joy

jeopardy is neither knowing nor putting ourselves
in a place hitherto known to our eyes, senses
and motionless body

our face is stuck, our muscles don’t act and our
talkative rumors don’t stop spreading around
like butterflies

in a conversation of trust we necessarily know
that a motionless toy doesn’t go hand in hand
with our status

however, we touch each other through windows
of pain that mirror the effect we had
on our brain

if I grasp and eat laughter arises where we knew
beforehand the absurdity of the waves that
were moving our eyes

our eyes don’t let us go but the movement creates
a difficulty where we would be absorbed,
eaten and destroyed

just to appear later on in such a painful fashion
where life would have no sense anymore

but of the case that we were merely alive with
no reason nor purpose, thus already death
in our soul