A sickness comes and goes – this week
a week of denials, this month, a lack

-ing and you tell me of your past to
pass away some paragraphs while
horns splinter the streets and our walk
-ing is only a method to reflect your
hair colour and my memories clamber

to sudden peaces, I wait for a world from you

About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

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