Have I ever told you about infinity?
I had never seen such a thing, not once
not even a glimpse or a reflection,
or a shadow. Not even a ghost.
.
Until one summer day, while on the bus
I finally saw it, infinity that is;
I saw it in the colour and the light
of a pair of sun-filled brown eyes.
.
I saw it in the way those dark pupils,
contracted whenever light was upon.
I saw it in the way the irises moved,
seemingly changing colour and shape.
.
It reminded me of breathing, inhaling and
exhaling, and the light was the oxygen, and
the irises the diaphragm, moving in order
to let in as much vital energy as possible.
.
As I moved closer to those round infinities
I felt, the vital energy they absorbed was mine,
it was in the way a galaxy was being born
from the clash of invisible light and brown.
.
An endless number of swirls and turns,
an unimaginable number of movements,
the unexplainable intensification of colour,
it was the perfect symmetry of breathing
.
But it still was something incomprehensible,
something that still seemed like a theory.
Infinity was so close but it was still too meek,
that was until, without warning, infinity saw me.