weak bitter sheen tasted
glorifying the rising wind
centered on dry branches
I twist the unfashionable longing
I do not know where else the jewelry I'm wearing
I kissed and kissed again
I'm jamah and kangepak again
I slapped and then picked up again
I sliced and sprouted again
still a moan of ghosts gegap moan ringing
about the clarity of upset since awake
and the blindness of blind dreams
scrolling, rattling, refracting the lens
tired of joking
blade is equivalent
merananya word
even eye bags that resonate
brewed with all the darkness of the octopus
batch of all fragrant buds
served on a torn lid
drunk by claw-clawed streams
duhai seramah tamah
I'm on the side you know
and why am I pressed
only Your eyes are able to answer