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The Raven and the Squid


Part I

Pieces of color decorate the space

Flying around in patches of smoke

4 walls

The spherical environment of their

Visual perception

Black birds

Flying in their chests

Breaking through the cage

Of the gloomy July night

They had kept the ravens inside

To not attract any unwanted attention

They were here

And so was the summer

This grey July

That seemed to want to proof to them

That climate change was

No joke

Or was it just the false memory that told her,

That in her childhood

The month of July had actually meant and felt

Summer.

Part II

This year was to be different

The privilege of her childhood

Had become clear to her But here she was Stuck on a weekend

That would only come after 5 days had passed - 10 10 Euros was her time worth 10 10 Euros for all the things she would actually want to be doing And Then Fall And Then get up and go to work.

Part III

She was still flying Her feathers had become part of the dark blue carpet That seemed to reflect the color of the night sky She dropped her feathers on the floor In rage In agony In restless routine Trying to break out of the bars around the cage. The colors were warping The shapes Into new forms of realities The black birds sailed Through vivid spheres,

Diving through

Circles of light,

Quares of shadows,

Lines of bright blue color

The bright blue line that

She followed

That showed her

How to survive

Day by day

Flying through the pillars

Of other people`s dreamscape palaces

Building walls of houses

Getting one`s 10.000`s pair of hands

And jeans

Dirty

To chip in

To the neighbours project

To eagerly build a new nest for themselves,

That would then shield them

From ever having to see each other again.

Part IV Like ants were they coming together To help each other to build their walls The walls In between which

The ravens would be raging To free themselves From all the night sky feathers, The maker of their shimmering apparel, Their glamour Their sparkle Leaving the feathers behind, Lighter than air, And naked like babies, They travel through the grey July breeze Down the balcony, Into the universe, Leaving their marble bodies Trapped behind them Within the 4 walls They have so eagerly built for themselves To not be confined By other people's imaginary walls Save within their own. Each their own.


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