Scrolling down, page by page,
Picking up memories that once aged,
Haven't spoken to you since far, too far,
But reading you words like facing so close.
Old friend,
Old friend,
Like the very pulse in my very wrist,
Don't see it,
Don't hear it,
But feel it.
Until you reach out for it,
You realize the existence of it.
Old friend,
Dear old friend,
We were never friends,
But yet closer than friends.
As we slip through each other's fingers like an eclipse.
What is a short collision?
It is only when reading your words like hearing you speak
People begin to remember,
The moon only shines when she holds on to the sun.
2nd March 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem