POPCORN,2025
group exhibition with Selma Elving

some days
you pretend to sleep until he leaves
you lie motionless, as if you were stuffed

it’s those legs    no

it’s those emerald-green eyes    no

it’s the windows in the glances,
it is the streetlamps,  that turn off,

      the trains that stop running, the hands under the clothes   night and

the rushing in the blood
the sleep, the awakening
the hunt and the destruction
the poodles and the pigeons and   the silence inside the human
the skin’s fluttering curtain  did you see it?
sometimes

you have a feeling that you are inside a dream, a fairy tale  told by a stranger

*someone whispers*

exhibition text for POPCORN by Lise Bøgh