C/O

Weaving halo of moon as hat,
Look back life
by folding my arms,
Breathings are totally bland . . .

If I look back myself
as a reflection of a mirror,
I never hope that
it'll be totally as stranger.

In network of boundaries and lines
of that certain desert
where egos make oasis,
I got stuck with my own strings . . .

When I walk in front of the sky,
memories look me scornfully . . .
I just gave a shallow smile
to a little funny dog by the street.

With the sun which gonna leave tomorrow,
thick pile of dreams
tied by ribbon of dawn's light,
I want to send you as present . . .

(BS)