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Roots reach out for Water in Desert Land

I was naive enough to think, that my feelings for you, Ghazal, can be silenced just by a 5 days escape to Berlin. But all the impressions of this shining city, its laughter and attractions and its mind-blasting images crumbled into dust as soon as I was back and saw you again for a few seconds. How could I assume, that anything can outshine the attractions of your dark, cool hair and the magic shine of your eyes. There is a too strong force that keeps all my thoughts occupied with your image. There is now simple measure to domesticate this force, as I now understand, it can not be cheated with other impressions and it can not be stoped by rational arguments. What is the source of your power, Ghazal, are you a goddess, or do you use black magic ?

I tried to erase your image from my mind with impressions, that usually act strongly. I went to see Nefertiti in Berlins Old Museum, the egyptian queen that is still considered the most beautiful woman since 3500 years. But later I trapped myself in the act of trying to find in Nefertitis white colourless pupils a trace of the blue shine that always makes me breathless when I look into your eyes, Ghazal. Oddly enough, I first had to meet somebody as you to question that a bust without blue eyes under dark hair has any chance to be considered really beautiful.

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