I gently set down two railway tracks on the tea table.
They were rusty and mottled more than a decade ago,
I couldn't pick up any of the stations by them.
The huge drunkenness inside the shirt envelops the galaxy.
Empty, a wisp of floating dust slowly falling,
The library card is withering away,
But I am more like myself year by year.
(All text and photography on the website are original by RETROWN.)