I received your X'mas card last night. Everything seemed unreal when i recognized that my address was written in chinese . I almost couldn't think. So i tried to wash the bathroom, cleaned the floor, washed the clothes...but avoided to unseal the envolope.
It's almost midnight. I start to imagine : after seven hours, the fireworks will explode in your city, everyone will gather around the table with familly, drink the wine, share the steaming food, pray for the next year, then, open the surprising gifts beneath the X'mas tree.
Now, i will open the gift that you send to me from another continent. I hesitate. In the past three months, my heart was serene as a hidden lake. No entry was allowed. No invader existed. But now, your words lie down on my table, as a swan feather . Shall i read them ? after so many sentimental events have sinked into the deep lake.
I glance at your signature. I touch it with my fingers. The shape of your characters are like hard rocks, standing firmly in the horizon of plain. And mine, are like curled vine, swinging uneasily in the sunlight of windowsill. I need your heavy body to impress my lighted soul.
Unfortunately, I am not a woman for possession, and you are not a man for liberation. I love ocean, so do you. Ocean never remains still. Ocean changes its colors and lights all the time. Ocean doesn't belong to any shore. Both of us are the fellows of adventure. Even though , we do need a harbor to rest our weary mind.
Poor mind...cries as a little rabbit, i feed it, then put it back into the cave. Darkness doesn't intend to surrender. Darkness rules every poet's world.
I need you. Although i never admit. I leave you frequently, just as i leave my island few times per year. When the corrupted scent spreads fast in the TV news , in the streets, in the conversations between strangers...i leave. I try not to return. But i need my island, the biggest ship in the Pacific Ocean. I need you. I admit.
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