*I pause, release a little longing my longing ...
I put your story on the soot, remembering the smell of your sweat slapping me at night.
Not a deterrent strand that you throw in your little one's sins ..
Nor is the lie of the world will sweet promise at dawn*
*All stared blankly, including my pen ... and my thousand poems
When the time is only able to suck the traces left by the night in the morning
When the cold of the night snow is no longer white ...
When the heartbeat of the wind is no longer rhythmic as hunting breath-thirsty breath*
*Forgive if my longing is more ungodly
Forgive if my black pen is writing your night tonight ...
Forgive if your embrace still feel tight now*
*I'm just a lost parrot in the word ...
Although you, me and my poet know this story is not to be poetic ...
But in the tomb deep, and occasionally missed*