moving soul

„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