each of us is reflecting,
blue carbon paper,
created to resemblance.
so often I can see in the street,
similar in wiped jackets,
lined with the wind and... with wind...
I can sometimes see myself,
with fear, when I get lost
between them in the sleep.
I am handing out golden coins
from my pocket, but it  quickly are ending
and this way I am staying.
in a minute bare and barefooted,
I am waking up in the warm bed,
with you and thrusts, because supposedly
I still have the conscience,
but I am lacking the courage
in order to admit to it.
laughter in the room... would fell me from legs...