Translation Sophie Seita
lauren’s youngest sister has a gift for leading
guests steadily out of the vestibule. wordily,
casually, sir has hardly turned the key, he’s
already floating out. we just live differently in
the foyer, not obliged to our own. we could do
worse than wear mantlepieces, a marble statue
warms you better than your own thin skin. it’d
be the one to resemble us: the worse for wear,
maybe ours after all.
<original version with
lauren’s youngest sister has a gift for already
leading guests on in the vestibule. casually, the
way she—when he still stands—floats onto his
lap, only with words. after all we live in the
foyer, no one’s obliged. antics, acrobatics, to
be a nice mantle—everything’s camouflage.
while lauren warms the marble statue by the
staircase, i work out our tactics: resemblance.
that way everyone sees us, and no one can
take what isn’t ours.
young sister lauren has a gift for guests, a gift
for pleading, for her guests’ vests, casually,
weigh wordy, casual, sir, barely turns the key,
it’s already floating out. we live for yer, no
abloquation on our own. antiques, apropostics,
to be a marble statue warns you better than
your own thin spin. taken that, perhaps we’d
still see was: she’d be the one to assemble us.
the verse to wear, maybe hours after ohr.
i mean, men sind nur big sleepers, right.
das einzige what makes them blink is mink.
From falsche freunde © kookbooks, 2009