by Iolana Paedelt love,lightened by fire,only leaves dark red bruises. your lips touch my skin,we burn— fast and bright.half of me turns into ashes,the other half crashes onto silent ground,you let me go,i fall from your handsas you throw me away— glowing cigarette butts on the pavement,ruins of fallen lovers and broken hearts. Iolana Paedelt is a German writer and Read More