facing the miracles on the wall
standing tall no more
what’s left is enough
and that’s always tough
rough to the core
on a stormy shore
we love to ride the waves
and we never shave again —

important is always the latest step
but we never look back
forward is the key to hell
don’t you fear the bitter-sweet smell
of the gliding stones
over brick-red bones
tell me why
there’s a purple sky
above our pale-green faces
the easiest spaces
are never the best —

while the rest
is upon us.

        © Dominik Alexander / 2024