Life is in tears when you lose a friend,
like an empty path along the pine trees,
enclosed by snow
and an empty road that is flanked by
stretching to nothingness,
and a forsaken heart who knows
he has no choice
but to dwindle
in order to go on.
I wish I were a snowflake who never have to fall.
I wish I could swim in the endless of white dreams
swaying between a flake and avalanches,
between snow and blossoms,
between grandmother's hair and the cotton fields,
between here and everywhere,
for there is nowhere ever to be or ever to go.
Space is only
the illusion of separation,
and roads are elongation
of here
to there.
