Have in winterworn loathing tearthought,
enclosed around a dying man’s clothes
stuck as frozen resin in the trunk’s bark

Have laid winterlight in nightcovered whirling snow,
becoming a strange cloudcarrier, clarity’s riddle,
leading extinctor of feigned life’s cloaked love

Have trapped been stuck an all too hardened living
where something untouched steadily stands strong
as an unspeakableness; to always be denied rotting

An empty line takes infirm spurns into nothing.

Have washed in the thought-vein and grabbed hold of clarities,
mentioned the windtorn year’s maze, adorned sighing


Laying left a while - A silenced and battered
only acknowledged by the seeing

Uninvited eels drink,
fattening on the wordsuffering in this last life

Destone me Life’s vein

Try now hurting what is dead.