Bangkok

Tell me something. She said.

Maybe she changed her mind.

Maybe she’s still there. I said. No more.
She said.

I can see something yellow and green.
What? He asked back.
I can see something yellow and green behind your eyes.

You should hide it. Having me, that was too much. She never wants to accept that much.
A cruel affection.
Unworthy to invest-yet now I begged desperately.

Why do we need to be curious about ourselves?
Why do we need to question ourselves?
Why do they hate so much when I explicitly give no damn to us?
Is that what everyone calls a betrayal?

Vernacular anger:
There’s no point to be ashamed.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty – what we’d like to know,
That’s all we know. She said.

Am I a spy?
But if so, on whom have I cheated and where I should go to confession?
Where’s the border? Between which lines I am standing?

Resistance to separation does not create a new concept
So never let me go,
Resist it, to reach any moment of dis/closure
Never let the chance of confronting you begin

Now I am
Bankrupt of emotion