the day after

December. A month of half-rain, half-sunshine.

It’s raining now. Heavily pouring. Wiping clean the windows.

Rain. Purifying. Stand in the rain.

Are you going to? Cooling.

You need it. I need it. Yes me.

December. A month. Of? The month which I was born in.

December. A month of rain. A month of sunshine.

Which one is it? Make up your mind.

Am I good?

It doesn’t seem so.

Not to you. Not to me either.

Celebration of life.

Not in December. Never never to be born in December.

Not here. Not there. Anywhere.

Soothing Lilium. Si si.

Why do I stand here? Dreaming? It feels like it.

Sing along. With them. Who? Them.

Music. I like it. Meaning. Love. Sadness.

Don’t be sad. Don’t cry. I’ll be there.

No you won’t. You don’t know.

You are not me. I am not you.

Self. A dislocation of the Other.

Other. A dislocation of the Self.


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4 thoughts on “the day after

  1. Was reading through some of the poems you wrote from your old blog, and I must say that I was feeling orgasmic: the stuff you wrote are just so beautiful, so bittersweet, so.. brilliant.

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