Chairil Anwar (for L.K. Bohang)
It’s late and and we’re still walking
Through the mist
The rain soaking us through
The ships frozen at the docks
Blood thickens, my body is solid iron
What was that …?
Nothing’s left of you but cold bones
The rain has stripped everything else
What time is it?
It’s very late
Nothing means anything anymore
Even the way you move.
Divagyrations 