끝나지 않는 것에 대한 생각 (Thinking of an Unending Thing)

By | 6 August 2011

Inside someone’s dream, I am dying every day.

I am the fear of ice
melting in warm water

the story delicately moving
like spawn.

I cannot list the things that I love
one by one.

Changing my face a few times,
I think of
the time I belong to
and the time that escapes from me.

Dreaming somebody else’s dream
and smiling
somebody else’s smile,

I might be the foreign air
or sometimes, the memory of a real thing.

I am bleeding

I am sorrow becoming a human being

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