We tripped over the edge, were pushed
or let go tried to save ourselves.

The perps are at their best when you love them
the love then gnaws its way in
like semen does into an egg. Revolt

will only hurt ourselves. There is no black and white
we flutter with clipped stumps it’s just conception.

There are no victims.
There is no perpetrator.
There is just posterity.

 

Translated by Willem Groenewegen