Taste redness, smell lulling white winds,
look at it in the universe: sun.
Gaze at stars yellow and glittering
till you feel good and have to shut out the blinking.
Brainworlds sparkle in your caves.

Sun — Egon Schiele, Ich ewiges Kind (I, Eternal Child).  Gedichte, Vienna/Munich (2) 1985. p. 24 (via egonschiele)

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