last summer
the war
we walk into a yellow void
where the little fox gazes at a bullet hole
the query
would we be still together
playing side by side
with two brown burnt fruits?
the isolater
you made a seal on your lips
then walked pass my fingers
the dream
for the ginger still in yellow
the fish in a bowl
cold tea, and the windmill keeps turning
I decide to stay there
the expectation
we walk alone the edge of the net
for an upcoming fishing season
the old letter
only weakest light I can adapt
where, your body turn into silverfishes
everything of you
becomes touchable, in a blind’s Bible
the desires
oysters
kiss your restless windpipe
repeat the silence
the messenger
the redbud blossoms scrawl in the air
sprinkling piece of the letters
the clown
when the audiences fade away
twilight,
darken the empty tent, his lips lift up the last trace of impatience
the sequelae
you carve a rose, on my chest
each time, it blooms through my pain
the infatuation
the biggest circus, the biggest kaleidoscope, the biggest Red K
are not important
the addiction
a man in weeds have made me a fresh new lung
to, smoke you
the love
every movement of dance, each time I land
I find different places in you
the missing
in the fridge
I am the kid inside a yolk, sleeping
since,
you left
