Weaving......

Oh yes, I might have that ability, hidden and yet to be explored.
It would be nice, I thought,
to have a pick of your choice,
just that its not a video shop you entered,
they were - beautiful, lucid still images.

And I anticipated before I roam into the black space.



x x x



I was half awake when it rang.
Yes, it was unlikely, but it was conditioned on the night before.
Over and over I tried to cut off the patterns of repetition,
in the end, I bounced in shock,
as I thought the repetitions had accumulated an outstanding price to pay.




Nah.




In fact, it was a dream of resent that I was stuck in.
It was bitter, it was a struck.
A song of melancholy starts to sing in my head.




Oh hey,
wasn't it supposed to be tapirs to be weaved?
What was that all about.
What had I weaved myself into.

Fail ni.

Stifled Platform 8.

No more than the last moment it tried - to speak,
She broke down onto four, on the ground,
trying to balance herself in one piece.

Was it too much of a strain, that she had been holding on,
clinging on so tightly,
...no,
she had let herself absolute power to her feelings, to her senses,
...the shield was built involuntarily.

Shattered in front of herself,
is what she is accounted for, a responsibility.
That was a message, actually.



***



I woke from the sun light
caressing gently on my skin
what was the texture that I felt on my fingertips
what was I holding

Oh
it was a sheet of tissue
sloppy, it was
Didn't I remember
it wasn't months ago
more likely
...freshly brewed

I tried to travel through time
and space
wasn't it a light year
wasn't it between cultures
wasn't it a tunnel of pesky roaches
but
all I got was to be disoriented

Much that I found out,
I am stuck in this depiction of a song could be sung,
how... tender it used to sound.

Either way my love,
I will be daunted.

"...running and...
Like a river that can't find the sea,
that would be me
without you my Dindi ..."

Subjective Clouds.

If only I could always stand far away and observe,
if my role is only to be a guardian to protect, like angels.
if I could put less of my self in the picture,
and stop being empathetic towards what one self is going through.

What could you gain even if you were to face it.
What could you gain if you were to release from a conditioned structure, roaming in a self constructed labyrinth.
Is happiness the only desire of your existence? If no, why?

I wish it wasn't my story to be told.

I do not want my reasons to be shrewd, like the ones I've witness and contempt.

I weep but I feel like I'm losing myself.



Oh darling,
make it go away.
Just make it go away now.

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.