- Vol. 05
- Chapter 02
eyes don’t need to speak
Your glassy eyes dipped in the bluest blue don't dream the dreams, sculptured in the cubicles of man-made dreads. They just
look, and watch with the purest compassion, over the self-inflicted wounds of our cosmic schizophrenia, not
moving an inch from their ancient godhead. Eyes don't need
to speak or sing, as long as they just watch with the strength of the
morning dew; reflecting, refracting and diffracting all the morning lights, before disappearing silently into the aerosols of our all-pervading matrix.