Saturday, October 2, 2010

the confinement of words p.2

In this life, I only wish 
to say a few things,
I yearn to mold word to thought,
hah! I'm already outdone.
I only want to make a word
strain in sorrow like the flute,
whispering the secret joy of death, of breath.
And yet, I am wordless before my essence,
I live only to speak this language without words,
once uttered, I will be relieved of this circling dance.

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