White Flowers

在心的远景里,那相隔的距离显得更广阔了。
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In the morning rush hour, flowing in the crowds. Same street. Same speed.
Anything different? Does the world become tender to me?
My conscious is blurring. My body is lightening. Will I fly?
I'm certain, I'm drifting away and fall down, down, down to the ground.
I cannot hold my sight between the dark and the stimulating bright light.

Let me fall...
Don't worry about my delicate black skirt or my fancy spikes, and the white carnations I bought for me this morning.

Let me fall. Let me fall softly.
I hear people talking and walking by, fast.
I like the feeling of lying here, releasing my tiredness away, slowly.

Who brings me here? to this quiet...quiet place where I always want to be.
Rain is now falling. Flowers are flying toward me, one after another, till they cover me completely, like a velvet quilt. The balminess fills the air around me, licks dry my happy tears. In my life, I never received this many flowers—they are white, the color I like.

This is the day, I'm fully embraced by the sunlight.
This is the day, frail me , can never never cry again.


April 16, 1998
Savannah (the day when I was tired)





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