Delirious Script

a ball of light

came crashing into my chest

and split me open

shredding my flesh

into a million pieces

and scattered me far and wide

 

there are pieces of me in Madrid,

in Los Angeles, Honolulu, Kyoto, Sydney,

Manila, Bacolod, Baguio, Coron,

kilometer 42, the South China Sea,

the fountain of Trevi, in a vineyard

in the South of France, in a club in 2003,

in Stockholm, on a crater in the blue moon

 

bits of flesh and bone and drops of blood,

my good intentions, angry thoughts,

quotes from famous people, my favourite pair of shoes,

my white gold earrings, dried up tears,

and undigested pills

 

and that very thing that is me,

stripped of the body and all the tangents

and transience and temporal qualities,

soars through the sky, breaches the stratosphere

into outer space and hurtles through the void

faster than comets, passing by dying suns

shooting ever forward, into nothingness

 

there are pieces of me everywhere

and the real me is somewhere straddling

time and space and truth and reality

 

Go ahead, tell me you love me again.

Give me your light.

I want to take another trip.

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Delirious Script

  1. Hi Wanggo. If I may be so bold, I would say that you have a penchant for visceral imagery juxtaposed with pensive seeking – makes for an intriguing experience.

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