Today is the last day of June,
Summer has become grand,
But the sun has moved south from the Tropic of Capricorn.
If you believe in the expressionless numbers on the medical record,
Today is the 665th day of my illness.
But I don’t remember how long I was sick,
Because it just happened and never started.
Are you working now?
Do you get along well with others?
Are you in a good mood?
Relying on my answers to these questions,
The doctor judged that I was getting better.
But doctor, I’m sick.
I’m dying ill.
Doctor, the pills you gave me,
Their work is patient and secretive.
Those sweet little things that slowly melt in the mouth,
Into my blood through the digestive organs,
Dye my blood green.
The green blood flows into the brain,
Flows into the dream it was dreaming.
Night opens the door to the sky
Revealing the blue faces of stars
Their eyes look down on the earth
All things climb their light in their sleep
Starlight consists of three substances
Time distance movement
They can’t be separated
They can’t be really known to each other
Night melts in the air
Breath connects it to ourselves
Everything is exchanging something
Everything leaves traces on each other’s bodies
It’s so quiet and dark now. I want to be inside of you, surrounded by you. I wonder how it will feel. It might be so wet, so soft, so warm. The sound and impulse of your heart so clear. It’s like back to the mother’s body. It’s like I don’t want to be born. What if you are a woman? I want to sleep in your womb. I will go inside it through the vagina. In joy we tremble and sink. In sorrow we embrace. We feel the impulse of life, the energy that makes all the flowers flowers and all the roots roots. And we are exchanging ourselves, just like how water and air exchange themselves.