Colored geometric lines,
taking precedence on winter nights.
Sitting in bed and surfing subways until my eyes shut tight. Shuffling to school in shirts my dad would wear,
recalling what I said on that sitcom-like night.
Vowel sounds, a shoulder to move against.
Wondering how can we dance this close
but still feel far away.

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN