Fot. Kacper Kubryński
About a girl
Someone wrote "doesnt make sense"
below my poem.
Right. It's hard to find meaning in
loneliness.
Present like emptiness.
Hurting like absence.
I was dreaming of a little girl.
Someone was blowing into her face.
Cigarette smoke.
The air is full of ghosts.
Life is full of corpse.
And for you, little girl, it would be best
to disappear
Then
Surely
Someone
Will
Love
You
So much!
So much...
(Translation by Eva Patzelt)
Noemi Susenbach