You are afraid

don’t be afraid

be afraid

don’t be afraid

no one births you

only my longing

my angellonging

and what I see is green arms and hands

in your abandoned eye which is given

the angelgreen slime to drink

so that you can see the only

flying dead who births you

mounted in light

collapsing in darkness’s nothing

other than arms and hands

and the breast wedged into the green slime’s

staffbody bent over the just recently

green word

lies on the fourth step the plea to hold : your sacrament :

the just recently green twelve-year-old fetus

who cradles death

when it is nothing other than abandoned

it must be the four angelgreen pairs of wings

born out of each other’s wings born from

the no-one-wing’s hovering on this step

dream in orange circle movements

places the fragile thin white wings

in the fragile thin white wing’s scent

the green staff’s slime

fetus draws the picture

the word

the division of the green sacrament

to reach the white fluttering breast’s

accumulation in a

nothing

when you are afraid

don’t be afraid

the word splits into staff and staff

and staff

dissolves nothing in this nothing

other than staff and staff

and staff

and steps

nearing nearer nearer

angel places the fragile thin white wings

in the scent of your fragile thin white wing

you are stone that will fall

into your fetus

in the word that you see and draw

the word will dissolve in

angelgreen white of no one born

fetusstaffs

don’t be afraid

(Translated by Johannes Göransson)