Nanliao 1
/by Sejo Pan
The seashore after the tide retreats, is
An empty battlefield
A wasteland of life
The moon
Sinking west in the morning wind.
After the tide recedes
Our little boat is stranded on
This beach of rubbles.
Realized the waves tumbling between us
Under the starry sky last night
Were but foam of illusions.
The high tide of morning starting to rise
The tears in your eyes
Fail to find a waterway to break free
Towards the ocean.
After the tide recedes
Our bodies yield also
Our blood drained, semen dried.
The howling wind on the sea
Subsides to even rhythms of breathing.
Our passion recedes, our mind yields
Leaving out a vast fish-belly-white
Morning sky.
Your eyes empty, even without sorrow
Blood too cold
The lingering warmth of touching evaporates.
After the tide recedes
We wait for the sun to rise.
1 A Small fishing village in Northwest Taiwan.