又找到一首... Music from the Womb Locked in the room of confinement This white has been bleached Flakes of dandruff peal off their walls A small hand chipping away at the ceiling Narrow holes where the snakes used to live Whose tiny shell hearts are left exposed to me The windows are not there Outside red maples bathe in the sun of blue No windows, not here but all I have to do is look at my bed The blanket, designed with the sun, moons and stars, is my window into space it might be the sea that my blanket stole or was it the last shooting star that fell into ice land for the first time At night, my head rests upon a mossy stone purple pansies grow around my face Surrounding me like petals of a daisy Each flower is that petal ready to blow away and wilt on the cold ground When someday it will be labeled as an ancient fossil No, that is not the way Flowers die because I sleep in their flowerbed Crushed they bloom, crushed they will go I awake from the dream and shake my head my dream catcher All of the petals of flowers fall each one with the same message: Forget me not Candy Wei (11/29/95, at Duke's Mental Ward) -- ╭─────────────────────────╮ │"To spell out the obvious is often to call it in │ │question." -- Eric Hoffer │ ╰───────────◇ http://dale.rileks.com ◇╯ --

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