Around me, April has blossomed.
Purple Lagerstroemia
Clouds drifting across the house
At seventeen
The house is empty like the afternoons, my mother
I carried flowers to the market and never came back, I sat
On the grass with locusts
They dream of curved rice branches
At seventeen, people light the lamps
Running along the windy riverbank
And call
Boat!
At seventeen, people admire the purple flowers
Eyes drunk like bees sucking honey
I must be seventeen now.
I sit on the broken road
I am absent-minded purple Lagerstroemia flowers
Why am I drunk like a bee sucking honey?
Why am I still attractive?
Clouds passing over the house
And the girls smell like grapefruit.
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