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.