By Huilan
Birds don’t wake me up but your whisper
Your soft voice from another side of the world
penetrates me like fragrance of wild poison flowers in forest
You have made me die; you have brought me back to life
I am not sensitive to death, but I am sensitive to you
I close my eyes to feel you
Your tender skin, gentle hands and beautiful soul
I feel you as my ancient Chinese porcelain vase
For I am longing to touch you but fear to break you to pieces
So I bury you in my eyes, my poems
but unable doing the same in my heart
You live inside me: day after day, moments by moments...
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