Do you remember when we slept in the carparks some ages ago

Where the cement sheets were cleaner than those at the hotels?

I don’t know why but we talked about that, you know

My guess is that I must have forgotten a whole lot of memory bottle

And that those so-called news that I read on line everyday

  • which close me and my voice gets close to tears

Stop me from calling my dad “dad” calling my heart “heart”


The lost signs cannot be recovered in a computer-way, I know

But the new signs could give you some new wanderings of mind

To replace real physical love and real physical transportation

While reciting

While conversing

While taking

I could not give more than a slight increase at the seacoast, a slight airing of different aspects


For the time being, the space is filled with emptiness

From some lost utopian time of the familiar geography

The small area at the corner of my body did not get to the far-away spotlighted island

Either you turn off

Either you continue

Either you turn on

Writing about this I am making it into a myth and it will never be forgotten and that is a good invitation.