致那些被捏造的我們

宇宙總是沉默不語。在每個紮實亦或鬆散的現在每個夢與現實融化的無數交界甘甜，苦辣，旋即酸敗的意識洪流裡人們熱鬧地拓荒開墾慢慢變得少言少語在最趨近於溫順的同時於熱鬧中離開在這同時我們說話。發出聲音擺弄扭曲肢體舌頭「紀錄。」我們說每一瞬間都是歷史，無窮地紀錄直到灰飛煙滅我知道的，燃燒與燬盡。那樣子的事實。描述的同時正在被描述所有前後沾染色彩同一群影響著同一群面對同一位沉默的母親我們是一夥的宇宙是一夥的深刻地瞭解到不可能離開後，寫一些信致那些被捏造的我們熟讀後被燃燒或保存或被鑑定、維護、束之高閣也成就一然後繼續沉默不語，如宇宙。Speechless always is cosmos.In every present firm or looseAt countless intersections between dreams and realityWithin the aggregation of consciousness, sweet, bitter, then rottenPeople cultivate boisterouslyTheir words are fewer graduallyIn learning docilityThey leave when the joy beginsSimultaneously we talk, with voiceTwisting our bodies and showing off our tongues“Let’s record,” said weEvery moment is history, infinitelyRecord until annihilationWhich is, I understand, burningAnd the burnt. That kind ofTruthDescribing while describedFront and rear painted with coloursOne flock impacts on the same flockBefore the one and only speechless MotherWe’re on the same teamCosmos is on the same teamAfter comprehending the impossibility of leavingI’ve written some lettersTo us who are made upWe may burn or preserve them after readOr authenticate, or refurbish, or hideAn accomplishment anywayThen speechless continuallyAs cosmos.