Ruin more beautiful than palace
Resin drips from cracks Cedar rots sweetly
Smoke draws straight lines through crooked air
that is pure and unforgivingly bare
In the neon light, the hallway fermented
Ammonia stung my throat
beneath it, cold chlorine
deeper down, the sour breath
of burnt hair
in the old sewage.
Fatal sweetness beckons escape
warm cinnamon keeps doors open.
Yet tea and tobacco draw you down
into the darkness,
where leather oud guards every choice.
Germany
Xecut
