The way home
During that time,
A day written down with heavy breath
To quench the burning thirst.
She finishes with a simple kiss.
This moment is the only one
Impulsive Moments Driven by a Unique Sense of Alienate
After the lingering taste
Intelligent and sensible in its own way
I imagine another version of myself.
Suddenly, bizarre and scornful
Caught in the chain of stories
Like the footprints of sad figurative painting
Perhaps, an unclear surrealism
I laugh at the fierce shoddy works.
Still, it’s not mine,
Even complaints about incompatibility and irrationality
Drawn insensitively
Even now, with some sense of regret,
I keep repeating that it wasn’t true.
Even today, while I am alive,
Like a living, writhing pulse
My own free dreams
That true romance remains
Just this one glass of beer is a blessing.