At night I wake up
Wading in walnuts
Dream~Odours seeping
Secret life seething
German pilots spitting violet horizons
And my eyes sting
From lack of shade
A corrosive hand
Feels its way towards the backyards’
Explosive viability

I lay there
On the stairs
Meeting the future
Pink neon lines
Shone against my
Pale sugar~identity

The thinness of the present…
My thoughts are sneaking
In threadbare whispers
Towards You
Camouflaged mercenaries
Afraid of being found,
Condemned to solitude 
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Anna Lisa Nybæk