Stork Paper

my hands tremble
forming lines on paper
folding tears
so anxious wings
my guts flying

silent my hands are pale
touched the light of the crescent moon
in the hospital room window
stork heron cranes
dimly lit room
You're on your back
so loser

cynical time
on the wall of the ward
chimes of bells
and dark
hunting me
like nightmare

You groan
space full of shadow of childhood
remember when chasing a kite
who broke the rope
now your life depends
on an infusion

folded paper again
again bitter. I cried again
a thousand paper cranes drove out the curse
a treacherous time

but only the stork crane
dancing cheerfully in the air of formalin smell
scratch the shadow on the wall

You fly
leaving a trace of grief
on the dimly lit room