They say you exist no more,
but I feel your presence,
your shadow in my veins
driving me mad and cold.
What would I do without you
lurking over the pages,
commanding my pen to wander?
Automatically I write:
“I HERE” – it is not my voice
but yours, blue blood dripping
down the middle three letters.
Thus I sense your love
beyond grave – an eternity
of dreaming, longing, searching.
Voices under the Sun 陽光下的聲音 