Late At Night

A fine texture on the nail

A perfect fingerprint

The bruises on the legs that cause from nowhere

The cold sweat at midnight

The soft hair on the arms

Toothpaste that stuck to the sides of the mouth

The shine of the skin

Silver tint

Chapped lips

The dark circles

Dust flying when passing by

Wrinkles of the bedsheet

What are you doing now?

Blue tobacco pressed under the tin box

Silent white gloves

Clear liquid filled the sleepy compartment

The bruise of the caramel is split in half under the blade

Who

Sage mingled with the smell of burning night

The mole on the palm is the mother's sorrow and joy

The damp book pages leak the light

Those holes are watching me

The wall paint peel off for the ruthful lies

Beasts are born in the tiny crevices

What year and month are you born in?

Head down to pick up a moment of trance

A thin strand of white melancholy

I can't stand this anymore

Craving for a long sleep

Wake up

Fall asleep

Open my eyes but still see the redness

The swelling growth of arrogance

Turn left

Move right

Stuck in the pace of front and back

I have to stagnate

01:27

The penultimate bell is liberation

The silence that was defeated remains unknown

I am the sheep without the eyes

Pre- arrival tasks