Synapse.

Of the slightest that I could feel,

never thought I'd embrace you with open arms.

Just when I'm about to leave,

to the pool of sinking gravity.

It was a mere collide,

distanced with a consistent pattern,

a terrene formula not taken for granted-

wasn't even supposed to surpass the point of threshold,

no synapsis incurred,

hypothesis defied,

nobody failed,

I was lifted.

Which was why I responded with a connection.

Good morning,

wish I could put a smile on your face.

Pejam.

Your eyes speak so much to me

whenever we look at each other

when I can't help steeling extra looks on you

when we were mutual

Our skin brushed

freckles, a little

wrinkles too, lack of moisture

when I pray my skin to be as soft as yours

When I learn by heart how lovely

your hands were made

I remember how much I used to adore it

from afar

And your height when we

stand just next to each other

Random strolls on imaginary tracks

It is not about a form of physical embodiment

it is, having you so close to me

warm, then melt

I never knew you were so much

I know I can hear you

I'm missing you

绿蓝。

雨水降于大地

它的笼罩 像在拥抱谁在哭泣

湖泊的涟漪 圈的圈圈的

隔离外的朦胧

好像一幅画

是生动像一幅画

然后 我被蓝色吞咽

像在雪球一样的颜色

没人在主宰

好想送给你这个绿蓝

给你 （我也需要的）平静

告诉你—

哪怕再也无法

Omar.

Under the rain, Omar stood.

It is such

a bolt to be programmed with senses,

and being mechanical with the mundane routine.

And this time around,

the subconscious fuse of hers has came to a wake,

A visualization of the

power was generated

and the abandoned city burst into lights

it was a quiet night

but it wasn't

One of being much capable,

to work and cut off dynamic circuits,

which wasn't suppose to be in the context

but was written between the lines of the manual

It wasn't suppose to work like this.

How could you deny yourself, my dearest.

No,

this isn't the case you'd encounter everyday.

Omar is not a cyborg, she said.

Obedience.

Field constructions of trenches

a Magnum on hand

in a fixed poise you stand, ever ready

in depth defense running through fingers,

as planned ahead

So this is how it is to be dealt with

I figured

I see you no more

it is not even a matter of vaporization

You sublimed

"Taken by force"

voices chanted

this maze that was being plotted

so much that one thought one could see

in reality, it doesn't seem to be so

we just read no more

I don't subjugate to takes

one might found rooted in the system

like how you would refuse

like how we were thrown into isolated cages, subjects, to be tested

Attempts to have the wire bended

'It is more than me, so much more than you'

All I could relate is the smell of repugnance

thorns all over your body -

you could only open yourself to the plane of anterior

a destination I will never reach

were we vacuumed?

I must look like an enemy to you

Silhouette.

Standing in the middle of the stage of dark parquet

swimming in the midst of willed faces

Zonked and

I was mesmerized by the light in front of the doorway, in the middle

as it looked similar to the scribbles once prescribed

It was green and only, green

the seamless link of contrasts to be framed

As though I could be engulfed by the minimal visual that occupies the gauge of senses

Oh, it was calm and gentle

one that reminds me of tenderness...

it lingered?

Sunlight hit hard

reflected on the corridor

Silhouette of different men

trails the platform of aesthetics

nothing to do with shade seeking,

...we were merely passengers, I derived

A familiar block of solid color, I saw

one that I would easily identify among the flamboyant figures

layered with the afternoon sunlight

and the green patched background

it nailed

Was it a feign, or a recollection?

No,

it was a beautiful day. Cloudy, yet beautiful.

不安与安。

把 我的不安

寄托在他人身上

折磨 外流 仰或 依赖 仰或 一种虔诚

把 你的不安

寄托在蝴蝶蜜蜂膀上

他们欢乐 你不例

那一天

你看似在飞翔

我在那辽阔的草原注视 你

那一天

阳光普照

天气晴朗

Tender.

Resemblance of the recollections,

like stars, they shine and sparkle, in the midst of the mystified cerebrum.

In space,

I drown, I free fall,

and I found myself being washed onto a shore of the unknown,

I balanced, the smell of earth and dried salt, and noticed where I stood.

The common ground of dream and reality.

As I hear every whisper the wind made,

petals upon my shoulder,

snowflake on my fingertip,

I breathe.

I feel you,

and always will.

If I Only Had Words.

Of how much a term could carry its weight...

I choose not to go beyond that branch of stream.

I hear your call in the morn,

it was that-

making me play sad songs in the warm little room,

when I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin,

even that, I thought.

And I hear you again,

when I was humming this tune down the stairs,

you appeared out of no where,

Like an answer, it was... though it looks like you're drifting away, too.

Feels that I am always beside, maybe

the other way round.

"The cultivation was a success, "

a voice I heard from the men in white coats.

Poignant, it seems.