Invention No. 13

我心里有个线
像大夫把脉的长线
只是 我
从看不见尽

有时候它勒得我 疼的无比
有时候它轻轻摇晃 节奏似的
有时候它另我想与它一起飞翔

它像是我 的一份子
我的血肉筋丝 把它给组织了
仰或是个来回的运作


Guten Nacht
it came back to me like almost any other recollection
sometimes I was stabbed to wake
sometimes I remembered light
and smiles I woke myself into consciousness even with my eyes opened
I loathe myself for the leak of subconscious
that I have tried to deny of

Guten Nacht
a prickle on the anxious pumping machine
much of the strolls of breather I took my crawl of time at
to realize that I could only fall and weep whenever I return

Guten Nacht
you must have been wondering how I am doing now
just like how I would

假象映。

I held your hand,
we stepped into this warm coloured hall.
I followed as you quick paced through shoulders,
a tad behind,
this is where I heard your stories about,
this is your port, in this dimension, at this breadth of your stretch,
this is where you lead me to,
this is where you and I stand.

To be honest,
it wasn't difficult.

It wasn't in the picture but when it happened,
it wasn't bad.

In fact, it was gauged with tender,
my eyes worn a filter,
...like those fancy pancy lenses?
Everything was beautiful.



I enjoyed it,
it was an expression to be longed for,
much that I suppressed within.
And I felt like I did something for you,
in favour,
a magnetic field on a random frequency, in some degree
...somewhere that I am able to glide along.
Yes, it wasn't tough at all.


I walked in with you to our boxes,
eyes contained not of what I see.
It wasn't for you, fear not;
It was more than me.


I remembered,
it came gentle.

And I wish
it meant something to you too.

Yours truly,

x

Lap XI.

It feels like a light year ago
I could fly through layers of clouds
I touched the sky, though I know I couldn't
That was all it takes, that matters

I feel ahead of everyone
I was smiling to the planes reflected
They were about the others
Others that weren't in the picture

I sped up, all I knew was
the power I have in hand
It was like a creation

It was where I found you

I looked in the mirror
My cheeks, responded rosily
It was the eleventh lap I sustained my breath upon

Absorption.

Berlin, 1927.

The instillation of essence you performed,
silently in the night.


It was magic
(You were magic).


You would squander a form of existence, to its finest value.
It couldn't be helped,
it was destined,
you were the crafter.
Believe me, you have not seen it all.

Raison D'etre.

你的心灵 被占据被弥补了
忙碌的 散播点子
平台也不再

我一直想
除了 祈祷
以安稳自己
以最微小的距离接近你

我什么都做了

Reminder V.

The morn I woke upon was stark
much symbolized by the white fade after a gun shot
I must have thought
or so, I doubt,
I might be afraid of having my eyes opened
I never knew what may come

I dressed myself
put on make up
made my hair
It could have, wait...
it has been a beautiful Saturday to begin with
It hasn't been missing, all the while
I was actually awake, eyes closed,
whenever you came back, and when you went away again
I remember what it was
how it was
if that ever was a gift that I was granted for

It was one of the moments that I wish that I could talk to you.

Vent.

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了你的错
忘不了你的好
忘不了雨中的散布
也忘不了那风雨的拥抱

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了你的泪
忘不了你的笑
忘不了夜落的惆怅
也忘不了那花开的烦恼

寂寞的长巷
而今斜月清照
冷落的秋千
而今迎风轻摇
它重复你的叮咛
一声声 忘了 忘了
它低诉我的衷曲
一声声 难了 难了

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了 春已尽
忘不了 花已老
忘不了 离别的滋味
也忘不了那相思的苦恼






其实你已经走远了
似乎感觉不了你的息

不再回头
是你策划的脚印
也许
是我期许已久的一刻

无论我走多远
快乐 并非到达的终站
允许你的侵袭
因为只有你
无法抵抗 无法辩护
只有被放纵的感官
不停吸收你一切的能量

请你安好

Satire.

1. 交响乐团

看着出口 光的来源

若无其事 速度依然 步行

然而 聆听了你的声音

是 你的呼唤

是 你

我加快速度 大步跨越

我跑 我真的像踊跃爱你 一样的跑

像直接洒脱地对你呐喊

是你 就快要出现于我眼前了

是你 归了

再

然而 车子从眼角到眼角消失

并不是你 不是你

失落

阿

什么鬼啊？

2. 水的循环

步行 我（常常）步行

十步三 重口的呼吸

我穿越人群 车辆栖息地

忽视排演 忽视上映

不过只是 忽视系统倒带

我

忽视得太多

一个不小心 摔跤了

那滩雨水

疼

心口在萎缩

除了错怪你

还有谁

如果一个后脑打击可以

让我暂时忘记

如果一个后脑打击可以

让我靠着你

如果……如果……

3. A-B-A-C

其实黄昏味道恰好

不怎么昏的伤

只是微微的 微微的

把车子操到交叉处

顺手 拿起瓶子 喝口水

你投影的侵袭

带来车子里的呛声

形式的喧哗中

我怎么可以这么滑稽

May.

As I promised myself a beautiful month to come,

it was, yet, another transition that one must sit through, inevitably.

I couldn't put it that way, beautiful,

despite it reminds me so much of spring,

under the warm and gentle sun,

when you could see flowers blossom,

as if they could talk to you,

about how excited they were brought into life,

into this vibrant, wonderful lieu.

It was all dragged and muddled,

like a bagful of water, carried, with an opening punched at its base...

where ever I land, I create traces,

against those that I should acknowledge and keep into account,

they were too, kind and loving,

but I just couldn't stay.

They remained,

as images that would flash arbitrarily,

like how projections would be screened,

as residues were gathered.

It wouldn't have even been surreal,

if I didn't have a chance to act.

Compared to your subtle expression,

it was somehow intended I presume.

Goodbye.

Thy Act.

You popularized my senses.

What a shame.

Have you comprehend my stance behind the drownage?

No, you have not

You only pretend, you did.

You only wish to beautify your traces,

highly carried and portrayed

the authentic tastes you bare...

What more can mimicry lead you to?

No, I am not a by-product of the constructed messages.

Ring me, 'Truth is Beauty'.