He sawed the table legs for me in this long winter night,
the unfolded sky outside of the balcony, smoke comes out from his thin lips of north my eyes are wet.
Things that one can endure no more, for instance, nighttide,
what becomes restless, what becomes blind
where the purist chaise lounge begins to snow. out of gratitude.
-Lau (2010)
No comments:
Post a Comment