running out of myself and entering a dream

time, many pieces of it

are stuck on our wall

some hanging by the dead clock
some dripping by the cold sun

some plastered to the old painting
some dried up in the flower vase...

a crowd of time around me !

why do you dream so much, you asked me

as you jolted me out of my dream; from this crowd of time

i do not realize that i dream so much

i offer a shallow apology

you reminded me of that rainy afternoon

when you were reading, i was watching the rain

suddenly i thought we were on a beach, and the moon seemed so real

i wanted to swim in the moonlit sea

you finally had to open the window, let the rain come in

before i agreed that we were at home, and it was raining

---that night you suffered a high temperature 

sometime i think it's this city, the streets here

they do something to me, they take me to unknown places

but you say, i do not put up enough fight to stay put here

as if i almost deliberately run away

i never run away deliberately...
 from you, this city, these streets
but sometime i do not exist, i do not live, i almost do not breathe
however much i search, i do not find myself
sometime i just run out of me
sometime i just run out of myself

at such times a shadow of mine remains lost in the darkness of our wall
like a long ago forgotten piece of time
hanging by the dead clock, dripping by the cold sun...