A butterfly sits there in the grass, a little wonderwork, he throws himself in pose, lifts up, but I hardly noticed him. The spring is dancing its choirs and you lie next to me as often as you do, but you don't have a look for it either. The sky is playing a color symphony, but none of us can see it anymore. Repeats, looks, wonder-normal, gives me a second, first time. I wished for everything anew, I didn't know anything about it anymore. The first few steps in the snow, the first day at sea, my first run against the wind, soft sand that runs through my fingers and the wonderfully light feeling when you swim. The sky is playing a color symphony, but none of us can see it anymore. Repeats, looks, wonder-normal, gives me a second, first time. My first run against the wind, soft sand that runs through my fingers and the wonderfully light feeling when you swim. The tingling in my stomach when you wave, when you tip backwards into the swimming pool. I want all the premieres again, give me a second, first time. www.mooji.org