I cannot say I miss you. Because I never do.
From time to time,
you show up in the back of my mind.
I love poems
As I love you.
I know what I wrote are not poems at all.
But who to say that you are real?
I love you but I hate you
In a sense that you are
Untouchable.
As I like cinnamon.
How many times I've dreamed about you
In my dreams, there is only one permanent scene
Your holographic voice penetrating my fragile mind
Your wisdom dissolves into this dull water of my psyche
Like glitters fluttering,falling in a Christmas crystal ball.