Sometimes it's not I want to write or such things
It's just that I have to jott my longings right down on my paper or eprints
And if I don't, I'd be doomed to my own invulnerability
Just like an atom bomb
exploding all its chemical bond
round the corners
you're sticked on
till it exhausts,
completely and surreally
not a single splinter remaining
nor the tiny dust you saw
which kissed its thinnings
starting the very beginning
Majestically splendid, isn't it?
Vulnerability is my death wish,
let me keep doing some livings, until
-your's truly