Ding an sich

philosopher poet

 

Don’t ever
seep into words
forsake the colors
and phenomenon can rain
towards black, equidistance
to every night

sleep
as the thing-in-itself
within the shadow
of one thought

soon no externals
but the perception as bread
feeding cold stomachs of mind

don’t lay claim to matter, chain
blind domain but instant unity
where space is skin and
bodies bounded as kissing
tongues

CONTEMPORARY POETRY BLOG

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