Translated…
Dedicated to M
This time of year, the snow already, melted away, all the glories of white, and the fireworks had, burnt out the end of the year.
I stood, on my own, on this peninsula you were born on, contemplated on how the sun had, passed through the endless thousands of kilometers, and made its way, into the blinds that were about, to be, in full bloom like the flowers. A thousand pieces of glass, is about to engage in the tilting time and time again, to, pour that freshly, baked sunlight, onto your thinning cheeks.
not my photo…
I’d reviewed and studied your face every single day and night, but I’d never realized, that stars were, secretly, growing up in here, to the point, that they’d not known, where to head to, becoming, the eyes of the gods, hanging, at the shiniest spot, becoming the targets of this game, that the insomniacs played each and every single night.
When I woke, the light from the skies came in, at supersonic speed, to differentiate the scars those pimples left.
Your dimples still the same. They’d already, accumulated the night light that spanned into the distances, decorated by, the dews of the morn, still, asleep. On that peaceful lakefront, there would be, those dreams that had already, burned out underneath. The hopes will eventually, grow cold after waiting for too long, then, devoured, by the demons. Tell you what, this time without you, my wishes became, sorta pointless.
not my photo…
And so, this, would be someone, going back to visit that place that someone s/he loved dearly had passed away, and, going to visit that hospital room or wherever it is, it’d reminded the individual of all the moments of the person’s life.
Life, the Obstacle Course 