by atma anna christ


The needles on her body talking her solitude

Tattoos around the arms of the priest

Room full of demons demanding for blood




Human condition?

Demonic formation?

Angelic cloud?

On the side street so much lavender cut

from a garden thrown away

Trains buses subways as the dance goes on

As maps of consciousness are drawn on computer screens

As lovers disappear in parallel universes…


Tele phone

By atma anna christ

As if talking with you long distance had any meaning other than self indulging in pretentious moment of drunk exhilaration

Other days it would have been easier to deal with pain

Pain seemed imminent after a long ride with this untamed horse you gave me one day when you left me in the rain for an adventure somewhere in Black Sea

Then I had no idea if you were real or a riddle to be solved by some underage schoolgirl in a village around the Pyrenees

Spoiled aren’t I spoiled like a vampire like a queen like a myth in a house of thieves

I love you beyond meaning beyond logic beyond interpretation in the emptiness of long letters and the meaningless absence

Who is to praise and who to blame

only the heart bleeding through my fingers staining my jeans as a seal for the victory over the habit of the mind

Then came the silence was it death or marriage cannot recall only the seagulls just before the rain and the roses withering away in vases for her morning tea in the aloneness of a mountain lion lingering across the snow

I love you so much it turns to silence…