A Moment

A moment of the past would flash, across
My mind on a windy afternoon.
Agitated, agile, and amorous,
I take out my mobilephone,
Pressing the button I have fixed before.
I turn it off soon
Before the ringing tone is bounced back.
Many a moment like this has piled up.
Each is a stanza, echoing
In my empty mind.
Esoterically,
They have wandered around,
Until I encounter them today.
To my surprise,
Not even one of them greets me,
As if
(Or is it true?)
We have never met before.
They calmly pass me by
As usual, without shedding any glance at me.
"Hi, you!"
I know this familiar voice, but
I don't know where
My sight should land.

The Defigured

Your innocent face radiates tranquil light,

As the sunset captures your gracious outline.

Peaceful and persevere,

Nothing disturbs your calm gaze,

So fixed at the void

Even the broken legs seem non-existence.

Many a moment pass without sighing,

But it's here,

Now,

The irrelevant moment of bombing inflames agony,

Fleshy and bloody,

Being condensed into the ugly joint on your legs.

A nightmere is just a bad dream,

Resting tentatively on your scar,

Perhaps,

It is laughing at you discreetly.