Free falling into the depth, 'til there is no light to see our colored division, then to climb up slowly with broken bones.
This tearful last poem, by a thousand years old cat, spirited away in winter's wind, like soft snow melting, like soft snow melting... // in memory of Matamune from ShamanKing
Between past and present, feminine and masculine, matter and spirit, being alive and being a ghost, light and darkness, remembering and forgetting, a fabric of in-betweenness, crossing artificial boundaries?
This dark moonless night, how easy it is to forget, bright stars behind those clouds.
A carpenter became god, another prince killed one, emptied both their souls, let go 'n let come.
Empty flesh, a moon shines through, these shallow bones.
Can I not stay a moment longer? in this dream of the night's snow, melting away with the morning's light.