The impression of light,

Behind closed eyelids,

Is all that I desire

The flash of colors,

Shocking and joyous,

Of which I’ll never tire.

The blues and the greens,

Of images’ passed,

Are all that I wish for.

The neon fluorescents,

That grace each eyelid

Are all that I adore.

I need this after sight,

So I can finally see,

What everyone else sees.

This mysteriously blinding,

This glare of the sun,

There are stars in my eyes.