We’ll meet in Helsinki

We’ll meet in Helsinki,    
and go to a field,    
to watch das Adler survey the rats,    
     
We’ll smoke the pipe of marble    
that tastes of joy and peppermint    
with looks of smoldering incense,    
speaking of das Messer;    
a fine diluvian decadence.    
     
And once again, "we’ll jest  
at scars that never felt a wound"    
     
And with your fingers    
caressing the screams    
in my hour of despair    
and complacent need    
of the narrowed love    
so threadbare and deep;    
you can just leave it there,    
laying in the path of lighted symmetry,    
concerned with semantics.



"jest at scars that never felt a wound"
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.