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Fan Zhong Dec 2016
A true beauty is never forgotten
It stays in the covert closet of our soul
unattended
spoiled
rotten
while we go outside
build millions of buildings
burn millions of trees

A true beauty is always instantly sold
for a price too big for convertibles
but too small for make-ups
When girls put it on
something is changed
something is lost
in a split second
We are touched
but eternally never moved

A true beauty could be as untangible as a sparkle in the air
we laugh
but we don't know why
Once I thought i had found it
during a fight with a dog in a dark alley
Another time
when a girl said no
but looked me in the eye
for so long
i forgot who i was

In an apocalypsed world
the true beauty will finally reveal itself
Survivors keel down in front of it
the chosen ones
crooning
chanting
relishing their reward
For that moment
we understand the value of death and eternity
then a million ******
in the remnants of civil society
in everything that glowed
every corner that denied
every discourse that faded
to reminisce
the passing of a million trees
For that
this unforeseeable future
I'm grateful

To sift through a million false beauties
tortured
convoluted
i'm still looking
waiting
for the sign
a sign concealed in that minute dance of wrinkles on your face
a dance that contains a million years of evolution
and some day
somewhere in that divinely lit shopping mall of royalty
of ancient colours
of trivial romantic tragedies
you will see me
after seeing a million others
you will be touched
and moved
and time will forever pause for us
for i have found it
the sign of a true beauty in your glimpse
Fan Zhong Dec 2016
We are soldiers of TV

Benevolent, hardy, loyal

And ready to die and live a life

For actors, singers

For slogans, propagandas

For the rich who preach

For the poor who shame

For faces, make-ups

For a modified image


We are soldiers of a box

A box hiding

Up in the sky

Deep in the ocean

Further in the forest

Maybe captivating god in his rawest form

But we don’t know

We are just watching

To see where this life goes

— The End —