The Future

When the whispers come

I’m by myself in a tent

Listening to the music

From down the hill

My friends sleeping

With themselves

With others

I’m alone

But not for long

Thrice she called for me

By name

I slept and wondered

Who that angel is and will be

In Love with a Recording

I am in love with a ghost

Although she does not know it

Everytime she walks the courtyard

At midnight

My eyes are fixed to her

Her hands glide along the steel rails

Her bare, naked feet


Along the stone cobbles

Her pale blue eyes

Lost in fog

Searching for something, someone

Maybe me

But I can never bring myself to tell her

That I am here

So I let her


Play like an old VHS

And indulge myself