hvis jeg kunne sove resten af mit liv

kun afbrudt af sporadiske semi-opvågninger

hvor vi fortæller hinanden

hvad vi har drømt

med søvn i øjnene

tror jeg, jeg ville være lykkelig

og nu går jeg i seng igen

Darwin's rosenhave eller Dan Brown's Hogwarts?

photo credits: wikipedia

Enter

And then you ask me who I am and I

ask you the same question and we

look a little into

each others eyes which has

unmentionable colors just

because we heard somewhere that's a

very decent way to pass some time

Like when we wander in

crammed department stores

digging deep into

freezers searching for

signs of ourselves or just

smoked salmon

Like when we gaze at

nature to feel as if a

part of something greater or just

imagine what it feels like to

have roots

You know, there are endless

possibilities, I,

a pseudo-intellectual

suburbian boheme, I,

an enthusiast of grey melange, I

a manifestation of indolence, but

which one do you prefer?

Let's watch something else than

each other just for

a little while, let's

jump the train and leave these

houses that were never homes, let's

just be a part of the process

As long as we do that I think

we're still some kind of

human at least

Only cats walk safely

on a night like this

But little girls are bright and bold

and looking for a kiss

And little girls will stray

as they always have

forget the coming darkness

and - well, you do the math

And wolves are very patient

and very silver-tounged

you can smell saliva

when they smell girls that young

Hush, girls, come a little closer

I have a house that's safe and sound

and you'll be safe as houses

as long as I'm around

My words are soft as honey

and I'll clean up this mess

you'll be last against the wall, I promise

(but you'll get there none the less)

Little girls are guided home

by the fire in his eyes

Little girls are stupid

and licking up his lies

Hush, girls, come a little closer

I know somewhere to hide

and if you're very brave

I'll take you on a special ride

And those little girls were blinded

he won without a fight

so believe me when I tell you

only cats are safe tonight

I mørket må man sommetider handle (saxo 4)

Klokken var et sted mellem 05.42 og 06.11. Det var det sted på natten, hvor himlen var netop den blå farve, der gjorde at man, i et usikkert øjeblik, kunne blive i tvivl om det var skumring eller morgengry. Men Anna var sikker. Det var nødvendigt at handle. Hun hørte sensommerluften kalde på hende igennem de letåbne vinduer, den hviskede om alt det der ventede. Det var som at snige sig over savannen, indtil gulvet på kollegiegangen knirkede let. Det var godt hun vidste, at han aldrig låste døren.

Hun standsede et øjeblik og så ned af sig selv. Hendes slanke krop var spændt som en flitsbue, og klædt i bare tæer og mørk kjole var hun både usynlig og uhørlig i natten. Hun havde ventet længe på at han skulle falde helt hen, stoppe med at vende og dreje sig i sengen. Nu var tiden inde. Hun undertrykte et grin. Hun var virkelig vild med Christian, det var slet ikke det, det handlede om, men alt var bare gået i stå. Det var nødvendigt. Han så ud som et uskyldigt drømmende barn, der i den bløde dobbeltseng, der snart ville blive plettet af hendes handlinger.

Anna mærkede sin krop tøve et øjeblik, og tog et par dybe indåndinger, for at blive helt klar. Så stillede hun an med hænderne forrest, og kastede sig ned i sengen. ”Bøh!”

Han skreg. Mens hun kildede ham voldsommere og voldsommere gled skriget over i et grin, som gled over i dybere vejrtrækninger da han fik hende manøvreret på plads i sine arme, og kyssede hende med søvnige læber, der smagte af de drømme de skulle dele nu. Det var lige det hun havde brug for.

Med overhængende fare for at lyde som en frygtelig kliché, så er det lidt som om nogen spiller sænke slagskibe med mine fremtidsplaner

(ja det lykkedes faktisk vældig fint, det med klichéen, flot klaret Maya, pissegodt)

PoP 3

We are born-to-late bohemians
feeding on irrelevance
getting high on sweet romance
let us never stop this dance

I'm a poet without brains
trying hard to stay insane
I don't know who I oughta blame
for teaching me to be this lame

You're a nonconformist bitch
making my desire itch
we'll walk the line until it ends
it's not our style to make amends

We're like romeo and juliet
and I guess it's all we'll ever get