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ΦΥΛΕΣ ΤΩΝ ΖΩΔΙΩΝ
Dear possible lover,

This is a moral triviality,this letter of mine

Expressing means suppressing something unidentified

like an object of boring desire

which honestly stops being a desire

since you obscured my reflection in the mirror

with lies,

snakes struggling to invade my ears

You know,I had an epiphany,which you may find profane and vulgar,

I want you to miss me because we seldom appreciate our loneliness in these crowded times,

full of velocity and atrocity that rapes our horizons with words

like hordes of grasshoppers

plagues of modern civilization,

immigrants trying to settle down

but soon resort to crime.

That's life,mein frühling,frühling becoming winter.

Stop exaggerating,stop creeping under fainting words that only accomplish their goal

through flattering and bed exchange...Because sex is the exchange for boredom,not divine ecstasy,

not anymore.This is supposed to be natural but God is not living here anymore.

I'm deflated now;i can't find the exact meaning of the emotion in German and not even English

give me a helping tongue.I think we are immature and premature orgasms,

locked in our shells

chosen by dormant forces that run miles in our blood.

We are unavoidable,we can't surpass our ego

that sings grotesquely in a notorious cabaret.

We are afraid of closeness,of typicalities maybe,that enforce our lives to be matched and respire.

We are afraid that lessons passed on by previous generations collapse everytime we abandon ourselves to nothingness.

Flamboyant statements;I'm sorry,my inner Diva emerges and that hurts you somewhat.

I'm sorry,darling,this whole letter is just an illusion.

Nothing real binds us after all.

 

With love(?),

Your possibility as well

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