Shopping in Eindhoven: fun, although,
That shop window is not lit:
The glass reflects your face
The future meets us
Beyond living colours
”I can’t see him,
I can’t see him,
but I feel him standing behind me.
he may have brushed right past me.
with black silent feet he creeps
up on life.”
Fragment from the poem: Doodsstrijd (Throes of death) by Hendrik Marsman
This light artwork is supported by Aristo.