Thousands of words compose your fingers
Thousands of word-events
sharing women
without faces -
just billboards
on walls
ripped by
winds.
Your words have no eyes
They are fleshless indeed
They don't need to appease their hunger
They don't want to quench
their thirst.
They just form
air bubbles.
You capture them
every time
and tenderly kiss them
while
soaring and
sneaking into
women's
heads.
The lions of these memory-words
hound anxiety at those
women
who timidly
wonder
how you will distinguish
their beauty
when falling
in love.