I saw your shadow,
Through the curtain of your window.
Every night,
when I back to my room,
dimed the light very soon.
To see you in front of light,
I hold my heart for a gentle air-
to discover how you appear.
But all my wish fall apart.
Whatever,
even red rose also has black shadow.
Whenever she had her blossom desire.



I sit near my window,

The curtain long and wide,

Hide my vision of the sky

All I see is obscured and in fragments,

I sigh!

But do nothing as my curtain flies.

The next day I sit again,

I hear the screams of a woman - sometimes garbled, sometimes loud like a siren,

And it suddenly stops.

My heart runs and eyes exhaust - too eager but too shy,

I sigh!

And go back to work.

The other day I woke up late,

I sit by my window,

Tired and I hesitate,

Suddenly there is pain in my chest,

Voices in my ears - unstable and insane,

I grasp the curtain hard, I try to pull it away,

But then I froze.

I tasted anxiety under my nose - delicious and fresh,

I relax, open my curled fist,

Let the curtain fly,

I sigh!

I see my curtain fly, too high today,

I get up to pull it away,

But footsteps are heard,

I turn back and see,

Masses and masses of people,

Scattered like leaves - dead and pale.

I try but I couldn't grieve,

There is a gun pointed at me,

I smell terror freely,

I open my eyes, pulled back in to reality,

I see my curtain fly,

I smile.

I sigh!

My days are over here, I need to go.

I look at my curtain, sit on the chair,

I hear the noises of the street - crying of children, scolding of a mother, songs of lover, laughter of girls, giggles of boys,

I see the sky through the curtain - cloudy and unclear,

I feel love not fear,

I get up and pull the curtain away,

The sky is bright and clear.

The street full of people too busy in the jobs so mere.

The windows of the neighbours clean.

The woman smiling with a gleam.
I walk away contended,

The curtain lies in the corner, perhaps offended.

Don't be afraid to
come into the backroom.
Part the curtain first
if you think you need a peek,
but honey, I've been waiting
here with all the answers.
You'll see.

What do you seek from this trans-trash
patch of bleached grass? Underneath,
infinite versions of me/my design holes,
tunnels in mud searching for sunshine.
But I want to ask you, who claims the noose?
Who gets to rise past the others in the end,
but then gets the knife so as to start again?
All ants, all ants, pull all but two legs loose,
and you're dancing in pants, wearing the tune
of the long, last living human in blues.