Creamy Cervical Mucus After Implantation

Electric howling XII

epilogue.
obituary.
Nepomuk.
sense and life are in books.
And yet it can get at them no.
It was just just a moment ago.
It was long ago.
It will take years to survive this loss.
senseless I let myself, driven by the cold, drifting across the aisles.
In the end, their purity but worthless.
What is better?
Be silent or rage?
The ants among us, obeying their own intelligence, would never face such a question.
And yet it is there and always will be.
What was once told, can not be taken out of the world.
It is absurd to fall in love with a girl like you.
And yet I had time to do the silvery trout, nothing better than just that
I imagined what it would be like if you and I could be self-sufficient fruit.
You work all around me.
I penetrate into you. Together
would you, as the laboring night as an absolute way.
It would also work but can.
Sogar den Namen unserer eingeborenen Tochter hatte ich mir schon zurechtgelegt.
Anjuscha.
Immerdar wird mir deine Reinheit vor Augen stehen.
Wie der Balken, den Jesus nicht herausbekam.
Der immer wieder neue Splitter trieb.
Keine Früchte brachte.
Und selbst die Götter bleiben fern.
Karwoche.
Halleluja.