In the forest of the green disc

The scent of resin hangs in the air

Muted glow – nose in the wind

This linseed oil – glue – and dammar resin

My aphrophysiac

From further already and then from somewhere in the studio

And then to open

The yellow pot

Oh heavenly smell

Bound and surrounded

Set in the frame

Finally

The faint idea

And the memory

As my madeleine

Thomas Werner