Anita Naegeli




Blue Poem

I am affection, flickering

shoe and blue

hand. The soft

world would thrill me.

What peculiar lights—


Over minutes and other

times  I converse

with flowers. In a deep air

they open their No.


The morning maybe

knows differently.




visual script

the argument

has been rendered through

an open window with a common

white curtain (a certain

amount of guilt may be good).

the distance becomes deceptive.

do you have something for me?


the message was full

of errors (header lines with declarations

& definitions &

unfortunately forgotten



writing & updating

physical places

(with a possibility to extend the life

span of impressions).

turn off the lighting & enable the blending.




Entangled Physics

Are you

sad? Yes, but not

like that,

she said and swam