My loss is core.

My life is core.

My love is core.

My wife is core.

And I am core for

no one as they

have been

core for me.

And so my core

is hollow.

And everyone 

I have loved

has lost me,

because everyone

who thought they

loved me never

understood my

brain as something

to be treasured 

and embraced.


in its 



to contemplate

all, you 

call me and see

me as uncertain

being, to be feared

and fiercely resisted.

But no intelligence

has ever

hugged mine.

No intelligence 

who comprehends,

and doesn’t 

apprehend me and 


self as other core to

be rawly 


I am the flower

you step on.

I am the grass

you crumple.

I am the tissue

you rip with

your cold-

hearted tears,

solely dis-

carded like dumb

game of luck.

And in analysis

ultimate, the wife

wins – out of 

sheer ignorance

of truth and

beauty and 

happy love and life

and soul

and art.

And it is I who

will lose.

Chiselled by


Chosen by


You have 

demanded my


And now you 

get to

get your demand.

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