Nov 3, 2014

waiting / atesa


November 1997


there are always some bus that does not come,       (you before a mirror ,mount on your lipstick)
In every crowd
                  There’s a man that stands
                            blankly staring at me.     (just now you hop on the train).
                                            (There is no dust on your lips. )
                    I know that the discomfort is too strong to hold
                                                                           Night to remain night
                                                                           and my house  remain sunrise
                    There on her breast
                                                         There is some warm pepper
                    How to take the night

                                     With her and  without her

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