Other people lie next to me.
They breathe uneasy beside thee.
Yet I call out with disdain still whilst I am ill.
Other people accompany me.
Perhaps, just perhaps I should stand.
Others might follow, least not leave a hollow,
For then other people lie not next to me.
Could it be that I should walk,
Would the masses entail me,
Let’s see as I flee, this emotion and me.
Not then to run and embrace the flow,
Is there a drag up on me. Let’s see,
Turn looking at my thought, how near or far will it be.
The problem with reflection is one of encirclement. I run back to see, no that was not really me. Yet there I lie, quite still. By side the of the river my ghost and me.
By Tamiko Ono