相思如雪花

抖落閃動的黑白

不在地上在心上

擾亂了高清的熒幕

你的面目糊了

哭笑拉成曲線

似有還無

我企圖伸手撫捉

電腦仍然溫熱

但鍵盤早已冷成一堆摩斯密碼

不肯吐露真情
甚麼時候喜歡都可以

隨便會面或道別

祗要打開電源

鍵入角色的名字

你必定依約前來

比情人準時

說鎖定的對白

走預設的刀光劍影

凝視鏡頭的所在

掛一個因果不變的微笑

這樣煽情的劇目

你我都演得生死與共

從搜狐到土豆

我們各在天涯的網絡

所思在遠道
不在眼前

眼前祗剩下一堆死灰

人去如燈滅

這些年來他總蒼白無語

曾經抱住的身影

最後祗給我一個漂流的網址

承諾、問候

祗寄存於病毒的電郵

打從一個人開始愛上自己之後

便註定不同心 也離居

於是我把他的名姓和密碼

一拼按下消除
Translation

Yearning like snowflakes

shakes off the twinkling of black and white

not on the earth but in the heart

distorting the high-definition screen

your face is blurred

laughter and tears pulled and warped

like a return to nothingness

I try to catch it

the computer is tepid

and the keyboard has long since frozen into Morse code

unwilling to reveal the truth
Whenever you like is fine

you can come and go as you please

just flip the power on

type in the role’s name

and you’ll arrive as you promised

more punctual than a lover

for a canned conversation

with the preinstalled glint of cold steel staring at the camera

putting on an unwavering smile

this rousing play

that we acted out holding nothing back from sohu.com to tudou.com

we’re both on the internet

and the one we love is far away
Not before our eyes

before our eyes is nothing but a pile of dead embers

people leave like a lamp clicking off

these past few years he’s been pale and silent

and the form I once embraced

only gave me a website in the end

promises and best wishes

are sent in infected email

after one begins to love oneself

hearts will separate and live apart

and so with one stroke

I delete his name and password

洛楓 (Lok Fung) is our Poet in Resident for June. These poems are from the book 自我紙盒藏屍的日子 (Days When I Hide My Corpse
In A Cardboard Box), Zephyr Press, 2018, translated from the Chinese by Eleanor Goodman


Previously: 即溶愛情咖啡 (Instant Love and Coffee)