daydreams + fragments

Morning Song

Words are the poison in a song

on the track of the song’s night road
police sirens  aftertaste
the alcohol of sleepwalkers

waking up, a headache
like the window’s transparent speakers
from silence to a roar

learning to waste a life
I hover in the birdcalls
crying never

when the storms have filled up with gas
light rays snatch the letter
unfold it and tear it up

by Bei Dao


To Tumblr, Love PixelUnion

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