POLLUTING

then i came to seriously consider days without you, this day four of me as a surrealist,

an artist independent from any reason or line, and so that when i think of you, all ends melt

like exposed ice cream and drip past my order like hot wax, that when you come across me disguised as a customer,

i have forgotten how my face used to writhe as a dying rose away from the sun, that suddenly my hands were following

form of a jellyfish and soft without bones, that if i were to paint you my heart as a goodbye would the brush still hold?

and if the canvas be desolate of colors and drained with a gilded transparency?

would you then, finally recognize the death and rebirth of my eyes as they shed layers of lament?

would you perhaps come travel into my subconscious and allow me to live a world with you, one of which may be false but all that makes of me,

all that i consist of and wait for every morning, and all that i am empty and perplexed without,

and would you then, aid me in my formation, or come to understand the tragedies of a surrealist

忽然 我開始認真的考慮沒有你的日子  第四天我成了超現實藝術家

一個從理由和直線獨立的畫家 也因此每當我想起你 我的邊緣開始融化 像接觸過空氣的冰淇淋 並流過我的秩序 熱蠟一般 也所以

當你裝扮成客人經過我時 我也忘了我以前的臉 是如何像那凋零的玫瑰不願看著太陽 我的手也突然 學起了水母的形狀 無骨而軟弱

如果我想畫下我的心送你當離別的禮物 畫刷還拿的動嗎 還有那畫板如果沒有色彩 只有一曾透明的薄模呢 那你 會不會終於理解

我眼睛的死亡與重生 當他們脫去了一曾又一曾的苦惱 那或許你 能不能偶爾旅遊到我的 潛意識與我暫時的生活 一個可能指示虛擬的世界但卻是我的全部

我全部的所在與每一早晨的等待 我的所有如果沒有了便 空寂與困惑 那你會不會終於 協助我成型 並開始理解一個超現實藝術家的悲劇