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You lay your head into my lap
I strike your face
The taxi rushes through the night
I’m endlessly far away
Blue soldier moment
Oh sweet, grown-up woman
We’re hovering, gliding in the opposite of home
It is stickily-white, like heroin, thick, and it carries death in itself
Don’t worry, I will not try to sleep with you, I say
Staggering through your Kafkaesque dungeon
One thousand rooms
Losing myself there in your multiplicity and being blissful
Time is stretching toughly like plasticine
It is dark around me
I finally find your bed
Am I torturing you, darling? you ask
We pass away
I’m holding your black curly head in my arms
Breathing heavily and deeply
My heart is running
Oh night, oh grown-up woman, oh heroin
Sticky-white death
I’m choking, craning my neck into the heavy night air
Oh Yoon, your hair, bristly and smoky
I’m inhaling your smell
Our bodies full of sebum
Our lungs blackened
Death is lying in wait
But heaven is where hell is
The hell of decompensation pukes emotion
Pure emotion
Only emotion
Eternal emotion
I am nothing but emotion, no human being, no son, never again son
Only art, purity
Yoon, heroine, the detour has washed me to your shore
Where are you now?
I’m lying here in your arms, in the Glaslights of your brothel
Oh, lock me up in your grown-up heart