Marie Jone

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Unshaped Photographs



Slippery shoes, they're hard to be mine...
When a pair of balls.. double the ballet silhouette...
While sugar sugar, you're running too far...
How can I get so fly without wings...
Yet I am not light, ironically vague..
As the edge of arrow touches like a velvet...
How ice is an air...
And I look like a coward..
Ghost everywhere, ghost myself...
These lines are worst.. but aren't they relatives?
Now I am watching the snails.. the finishing line seems unseen..
Keep drawing on the soil.. 
While I looked down and fell..
Think of old folks, how spoon is heavy..

Still remember how I was taught in school, this earth is round..
Somehow, the teachers are correct today..

Unfathomable Red, where are those questions?
I wrote 'zero' in the answer sheet..
This time it makes sense..
Cause simple thought goes profound..

Unreal is real..
Words are twisted, so do the imaginations..
But they are relatives, yes they are..
Looked so me..

I know I will be gone, and this will be a legend.. 
To those who concerns.. And imaginary-literate.

-exa-


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