Some
Memories
Erupted
In drops
Each 'drop'
Is a burs
I always remind myself
To explore.
The door for conquest is always open
So, I opened the door
To explore
Each burst
Separately,
Case by case,
File by file, and
Archive by archive,
I let myself being
Driven
And taken
By one hand, or
Both,
By one foot
Or both,
By my skin,
My hear,
My neck,
My nose,
My ear,
Or entirely.
I was not in the position to choose.
I just let it take me
That is my pure desire:
I choose
The start
And never worry about the ends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem