The stream of water in time
Sunk on an airstrip of LaGuardia Airport,
Flows
In summer, longing for winter.
In winter, longing for summer.
A flare reflects on a home town.
I drink down the artoma of pleasure
As the lights in the airship
Turn off one by one
I spread out a white hanherchief
As a wayfarer
Holding a traveling ticket
I dig out a gravel chip buried
In my chocolate
Saying good-bye
Someday I long for the wayfarer
To throw away the shelter of language
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