July 2018


Tonight we had put the ladies on their beds;
While the men were sitting with the smokes under the moonlight;
We conceivably think that it was the prettiest flawless stillness;
But at the end ambiguity was the thing that choked our lips;

Furthermore mimicry had led us into some intersections;
When we realized that words could not signalize our intentions;
Even the glasses were emptied gently through our sweet words;
And the last tears of wine could still be the sign to say our temporarily goodbye;

It should be the revolution that we pursue all along our life;
And the north wind was the only one that always kisses us on our cheeks;
Perhaps this moonlight will not be the same again after you will have been thirty;
When you give birth to your new vortexes, I am still trapped with our gravity;

Neither you nor I could exist until dawn rose;
You became a dust under the fog in the midnight, while I was becoming the wind that tried to fondle the moon;
Perchance wind could bring dust anywhere he wants with him;
Tragically they were not meant to be dense for.

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