„my spirit feels so young again: it’s shaken
by magic breezes that your breathings waken” (Faust, Goethe)
since i exist
i lived many times
gazing into souls’ chasms
in eyes buzzing brown
bright black
melancholic blue
varicolored as someone stained them with paint yellow
amber full of sweetness
in eyes mine tainted under straw yellow zones
dark as night starry and unfathomed expance alike
azure like sky’s reflection in depths of water
i am here not so long
what living for real means
does anybody know
out of the corner of my eye i’ve seen the answer