〈即句之九〉
想像你，你便像一個藍色的詞語
代表那一小片我用鏡截取的天空
安靜地你在句子裏
接續時而喧囂時而鬱躁的言說
你不屬於意義
只屬於藍，那毫不擴張
知其所向、有大河湧流的藍
那在岩石裏被長年煉成的
凝定的瑪瑙藍
那四十億公里以外海王星的澄藍
指骨間靜脈的青藍
春天的藍，樹影的藍
無所不在又無從把握
想像的藍
我一再用鏡截取天空
裏面沒有雲。我的長髮垂下
像觸碰到不動的河心
Instance No. 9
As I imagine you, you become a blue word
that represents a tiny portion of the sky which I extract with a mirror.
Quietly in a sentence
you connect a sometime clamorous, sometime frustrated discourse.
You are not meaning
but the blue which does not expand,
the blue which knows where it goes,
which allows the river to pour,
the agate blue that was refined in rocks,
the crystal blue of Neptune from 40 billion light years,
the cyanine blue of veins between finger bones,
the blue of Spring, the blue of shadows of trees,
the ubiquitous and the intangible
blue of imagination.
Once again I extract the sky with a mirror,
where there is no cloud. I lower my long hair
which seems to touch the immovable heart of the river.
Frozen Leftovers 