my poems less much than my hair
my poems less much than my hair
every word not straight not curl
neither big nor small
when it secrectly leaks the lips
it makes a way like a comb makes her way in the hair
my poems silent much than my hair
every line not long not short
neither ever starts nor ever ends
when it secrectly leaks the mind
it makes a way like a brooth makes her way in the hair
my poems mysterious much than my hair
every piece not dark not bright
never know none never unknow
when it secrectly leaks the heart
i hear it mingles meanwhile a scissor cuts her way in my hair
我的诗篇比我的头发少
我的诗篇比我的头发少多了
每个单词即不直接又不弯曲
不小也不大
当它从嘴里悄悄泄露时候
它经过的方式就像梳子划过头发
我的诗篇比我的头发安静多了
每一行即不长又不短
从来未真正开始,也没有结束
当它从头脑悄悄泄露时候
它经过的方式就像别针划过头发
我的诗篇比我的头发神秘多了
每一篇既不模糊又不明亮
从不知道什么亦不不知
当它从心脏悄悄泄露时候
我听见它们纠集的声音,同时,一把剪刀在我的头发中穿行