Thank you my friend @cat_tattoo for the amazing songtext. 🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏🐱🍏 The peel falls and curls around, a fragrance drips onto the wood. The light from the window slips in, the blade glints for a second, enough to ask myself: Has this knife lost its edge? Or is it my hand, just my hand, that today doesn't know how anymore? Or is the apple harder than before, or is it the time that has passed without my noticing? The cut veers off, not straight, the white flesh shows through. I never noticed that the peel wears two colours: one more vivid, one more tender. My breath fills the silence, and the water drips, slowly, into the sink. Has this knife lost its edge? Or is it my hand that no longer remembers how it's done? Or was the apple asleep, and I just woke it up because I needed something to do with my hands? It's done. The apple is peeled, white, naked on the board. The knife rests and I look at it. I don't know if it weighs less, or if my hand has just grown used to it. The apple just stays there. I'm not hungry. I pick it up, turn it over, and see a small spot, a bruise I didn't know was there. I leave it. I walk out of the kitchen. The knife is still on the board. And watches as the apple is left behind, all alone on the board. by Ape · Music & Cat_tattoo. Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Jegliche Nutzung, Bearbeitung, Veröffentlichung, Vervielfältigung oder kommerzielle Verwertung ohne ausdrückliche Genehmigung ist untersagt.
