cooking breakfast of Neukölln, Berlin, and You, smiling while I dance with a white figurine, brushing my teeth with you behind me happy
pouring coffee no milk as black as ravens your hair always pissed me off, appearing in every bed we slept on laughing for hours, running to ZOO and back in cold mornings
falling apart as i wash the forks, I left you shamelessly with regret, with Berlins’ melody of Bowies’ station to station to Neukölln to us nude