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Fly my lovely kite in the rain
wet cloth me in the night, dress me with a
mink that feather my skin; warm my day
with joy in the lucky sky, return the smooth
of the mouth that sweating my tongue of
the fresh dew lips i return as you
fly little kite in the rain, the tail that guide, hide
it with the wind, cut it short as it dance in the
turmoil breezing skies with dazzling wiggle; just
parting each part with the tearing tail it fall, come
wash out the waiting wet tail in the high above
the land it fly the night may fall, but the rain it
speed up in the tailing sky, as far in a distance
light beneath the horizon of a different
Heavenly skies
rain. rain; touch my tail in the body it fell, thread
lost as far it could stood, hold where nobody should
fold, in the string the wet kite brings, the neon of
fresh, steer me to find the genuine face where
everybody wish to tie my hand to stay goodbye
soar high my dear kite the sky is wide, easy to
fly, as you surf the heavenly sky, leave no one to
remember that the past has something to say
of how to make it easy, with a heavy tail in the air
weight balance my speed, in the wet it rise,
to the spectrum of the clouds, where you want stay
high......fly my kite, the wet tail seem it easy to
carry as the sky goes high
poem
by
Antonio Liao
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