(Written almost 10 years ago to my parents as I said goodbye to them, for China)
For the first time, I waved at myself through those doors,
And like doors, their bodies closed tightly together forever,
Leaving no space, no chance of returning.
Through those train doors, they handed me their life, their hope,
And became a pair of beautiful ghosts on that platform.
My doors swung open, they entered hand in hand.
Constant Voice 