//Precision//

Let us be the exact duration of time spent on nothingness
The right amount of space that allows souls to redeem sins among timelessness
We would be the irony towards the accurate amount of heartlessness
The particular dimension of void that retains sanity while it corrodes our valueless humanity

Let us become the world’s most profound silence the universe’s most correct form of silence
We would be the appropriate apathy that fills hearts with complete tranquility
The familiar indifference that paints shivering breaths with subtle rhythm
And the unknown thought that rightly accuses our body’s actions with treason

Let us be sheer existence
The existence that does not disrupt aesthetic impulsion the existence that unconsciously relates beauty to intuition
We would freely dispose emotions at the border of your soul and mine
And condemn imprecisions inaccuracies and indecisiveness as we deport existence

Let us be none of the above
I would be sinful you would be inadequate our existence would be inaccurate
But we will one day be away from the ocean’s darkness
one day escape from the labyrinth of heavy inertness
and one day be freed from such futile catharsis

29/04/2017 12:46am

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//故事説//

我會跟著你的步伐一步又一步地揮霍軀殼𥚃的
羯磨
然後盲目地用那刀尖寫上不能被墨水掩蓋的
經文
我會把血液都釀成無人青睞的伏特加與直白的
葡萄酒
然後把它們存放在那將要枯死的木棉花樹下土壤的
一角
我會向遠處的天空訴說她擾人的柔情與我們都不能忘記的殘酷
然後沉醉於他的死寂
你的寧靜
我的空白
我會在災難饑荒隕石恐襲之時平靜地永久冬眠
然後仔細記錄最後一次閉上雙目的傷痛與拒絕空氣的
無窮快感
我還把一字與一句變作你膚髮上的麈埃
把痛與夢寄托於他葬禮旁的野草
把淡漠與日光寄到她永不再打開的
信箱
而最沉著的不須再度費力吶喊
最美好的已不渴望見證美麗
最悲痛的只渴望被瞳孔折騰
07/04/2017 01:57am

//A Hymn to My Dreams//

My dreams
willingly complicate deaths in your imaginations adequately dislocates temporary meanings of existence

My dreams
cease to contain upheavals of irregular heartbeats or valleys of Shakespearean tears in the pandemoniac heat

My dreams
were on a slow train without forgotten speech
showering naked bodies with tinkling helplessness for the passing views of villages’ siege

My dreams
attempted to transform moments into permanence while ordering a massacre for words of human kind’s sentiments

My dreams
cleansed my blurry eyes with your endless sunrises
robbed the world with their light beams’ imperfections and my lampposts’ crises

My dreams
wished the moon could glisten brighter than the stars while sabotaging tranquil ancestors of the skies from afar

My dreams
imagined your toes running through the edges of the world as my throats of blood their minds of poetries unfurl

My dreams
never wrote again never dreamt again never encountered rivers that capture dying silhouettes again

Your dreams my dreams
They were never ours
She was never mine either

28/03/2017 05:37am