encounter

translated by PLS

a troop of ants were climbing over my instep

in the collapsed time

her words blown off by something

some to the east, the other west,

responding to the man standing before her

the end of the troop was still ants

and the only sound of the ground

he had been stooping in silence

since her last glance

along with his expression

shrunken towards a certain direction

they

seemed to be in a great hurry to see

that man

walking on the road stretching shorter

aiming at the heart of them

velvetleaf, her memory

and the empty brick buildings

he was 

catching a sound in the weeds

and then swaggering

to offer it to her —

her forehead brighter than yesterday

men singing

women dancing

around the chaotic flames

a type of transparent fabric slowly separates them

no shadows of any man

nor beasts

pigeons sauntering on the square

right now, ants were climbing over my instep

she started opening to me layer by layer

with a multitude of unintelligible languages

sketching out a few stories from the past

and a few dispensable edges