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Poem

Walking under the rain I give up,
I give up with the smell of your worries,
with the way you smile 
your completely untrue stories.
I give up with the taste of your two soft, red edges, 
which are part of your mouth, 
with the unpleasantly sharp taste of your lips.

I give up to let the phoenix
set fire to itself and born again,
raising from its ashes.
I give up with a satisfying meaning.

I will stop trying to guess
whether I'm here or there
I will stop doing my research
before I have completed it.
I will log out before being knocked out.
I will let that great affection
work with the reflexive pronoun "I".

I give up to let the ability to recover 
quickly fill me in...body and heart
I give up with a pleasantly meaning

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