that light, coming out of the white and black photo,
chromatin mass of living cells
willing to get oxygen,
filling up the night with the photons
from the distanced universe that is parallel
to this one...
again...
don't blame it for what it's done
to you,
standing on the edge, looking at eyes of immortality in vain,
listening to the music of the singing storm...
there are so few
of the people you spotted, who are still inside,
made your heart warm...
is there a need for? is there a wish for?
there is just a glossy or matte barrier covering unmoving life...
that existed before