For Me Poem by Niko Tiliopoulos

Is this the requiem of the soul,
or the prelude of a new life?

The echo of the pixies
on the wet, death-coloured leaves of autumn,
or the whisper of God to the wind
as he’s making love to earth?

The world around me is baptised
in a soft contrast
and shadow looks brighter,
and light looks dimmer.

What is it that transforms me hypnotically?

I am changing, performing pirouettes,
and love is sketching psychedelic comics
on the film of my psyche.

She is tuning my heart in minor scales,
using as basic notes
Rembrandt’s paintings.

When will I see myself in the mirror?
Naked and beautiful,
like Adam, before he got an apple-belly…

And she is playing with me,
like a stroke of green
on the back of pink panther.