We can only know what we are
given. Where is the soul within
its body? Or does it watch us
from the outside like a stranger?
All day long my heart beats stronger,
at night it searches for a corner
like a frightened child.
Are souls more beautiful than dreams
or do they vanish like the stars?
Through an attic window, what watches
from afar, a lonely human being
seems nothing more than what they are.