無人在場，
名字正鬆脫。
一個字向內生長，
暗了自己的根，
從那張說不出它的嘴裡
飲下。
貼近越收越緊，
在睡眠中翻身。
隆起的寂靜下，
某種沒有形狀的東西
把我們摺進它的形狀。
No one was there
when its name unfastened.
A word grew inward,
darkening its root,
and drank from the mouth
that could not say it.
Nearness drew tight,
turning in its sleep.
Under the swelling silence,
something without form
folds us
into its shape.