stone-spitters

And when they spit stones,
it dwindles.

-

She didn’t want to, yet neither she didn’t. Thus, they
met on that clearing. Above their heads, a storm of crows. An ocean;
or was it the fog. Perhaps a   
couple? Or they thought alone but felt together.
One reached out a hand, the other took it. Although little; they were.

--

Tell me, what now. I’ll tell you. Tell me,
what for. I’ll tell you. Ask me, what’s tomorrow. I’ll ask you.
One took a branch. Two miserable leaves, look,
like us.

---

Above, it sounded like wealth. Below, but haze.
Do you? A questioning glance. I don’t know. Let’s remain. Why,
why not elsewhere? Here is where we once already. It paused.
Here is where we once as one.

----

Two is more, isn’t it? Simplicity was evident. One
spat eagerly. Should nothing remain;
there. Obscure gestures. Oh, one said, unfortunate. At the bottom,
there is no stone, and the window, it shatters.

-----

One shed a few tears. One dripped. Look, the lilac, it heralds
forgetting.

------

She shuddered, or is it the foliage. He, again empty;
thus, entirely full.

-------

He leaned over to inspect what only she smelled. Over there, it blows. And he pointed.
Over there, they dwell. He tore. And he scattered, as if the wind filled him.
Ahead, the corpse of the forest. Behind, the shells of the night. The willows,
they dance. The pines, they
plead.

--------

She, she was ugly. That is: marked by hatred, faded. But beautiful,
crossed by deep furrows, roughly shaded and bestowed with eyes that kidnapped.
With no prospect of return. Where to; anyway.

---------

However, he? He was insignificant. Elusive. Often, she dragged with
menacing gestures. Yet, he revealed nothing, out of gloom. Or rather:
he sobered from the pain.

----------

Where his brows rested, there it dimmed. He swallowed the dust that was once his saliva.
She concurred: It's bad. If we now run, we can make it. Awaken,
taste different air. Also forget what was never there. To numb the clamour
that you emit. And I.

-----------

Remember, still. Lying there in the broom. Do you remember, bleeding, yes, but joyous. You sweat,
the fire. No, it wasn't warm. He had nothing left, to remember, no.
Where should I take it from, he asked. What's gone, I don't carry it. I've never kept anything with me.
It's better to let it go, they say. And I, I keep leaking. The words. Just the other day, it spilled out,
and I couldn't hold it, I pulled. And what was left, where the thread was finally torn. In any case,
nothing that fit. With your bitter hair.

------------

Moisture rose to the peaks and fell.
Sloping, it breaks there.

-------------

It steamed. Only fragrance, but splendid. If forgotten at all, then here. And she
ran, no longer like a mushroom, no longer mossy. Directionless, if viewed from an
undulating roof. She trotted.

--------------

Rolled up, a tangle of bone and limb. Preserving that little panting.
Veins swollen and skin thin, on the brink of rupture. Perhaps today, life will burst forth.
The other day, a bag full of chunks. From the foul stream. Just yesterday, and she slept.

---------------

There was sweetness. There was no awakening, only a looming strike and penumbra.
All drenched, but what does it matter. Somewhere over there, it must be warm. She sat, and
there was a drumming. An emptiness now loud. The stomach, gnawing at itself. Take it; she took.

----------------

There were promises. Where the words ended. There was an understanding.

-----------------

Bitter, when the acorns are ground into flour.
And there, there was no longing. Only stillness. If that's something at all.
Lead-heavy, she remembered. There used to be someone.

-----------------

As if there were still questions. Retreat then.
Where the ground swallows the steps.

-------------------

She took without giving, and gave what wasn't there.
Only milk, where there used to be a pit. Only yawning. Where it used to pull.
You can take my roof, screaming.

---------------------

Froth, hardly any colours. Fury, yes, yes. There was weariness. At the end of the
rage, also grace. So she decided.

----------------------

And when they spit stones,
it trembles.