You see half the moon, its cresent, and one of the planets, maybe Saturn, maybe Jupiter, in the early night sky over Berlin, through the windows of a taxicab, near Potsdamer Platz.
You think: Beauty
No, this is not beauty, maybe not, maybe, this is the rest of it, maybe not, maybe, the rest of beauty, maybe not, maybe, what remains of beauty, maybe not, maybe, what is visible, certinaly, uncertain.
Your arms would not be able to strech as far as necessary
to form an adequate gesture for beauty (You know that, don't you?)
So, [] beauty remains in the impossibilities of the body
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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