Blinding radiant void

A dream, half-remembered, 
like a flicker of joy from the unforgettable 2018, 
drifts back to me, 
a tapestry woven with threads of feeling, 
though reality’s reflection is but a whisper. 

I find myself wandering, 
through the vibrant chaos of Hong Kong’s night, 
neon signs flickering like stars, 
how did I land in this far-off realm? 
Perhaps I was chasing a meeting, 
with the one I’ve loved from afar, 
tuning into the familiar hum of a radio wave. 

What was he doing, 
in the midnight pulse of this city, 
a restless spirit, 
lost in the routine of a cultural forum? 
Patiently, he awaited me, 
two spectral souls destined to collide, 
in this artificial wonderland of light. 

He stands out, 
tall and lean, 
a graceful figure, 
like an ancient statue come to life, 
the night’s illumination seems to emanate from him, 
an angel amidst the neon haze, 
light flowing through him, 
a surreal vision in a world that feels foreign. 

His gaze, 
filled with an unbearable sadness, 
the weight of timeless melancholy, 
like a portrait of a weary bon vivant, 
from the late northern Renaissance. 
Fatigue and desire swirl in his green eyes, 
barely visible behind thick glasses. 

This desire is different now, 
not to claim my soul or body, 
but to vanish together, 
into a blinding, radiant void. 
I yearn for that fleeting half-life, 
our bodies dissolving into stardust, 
just knowing he is near. 
Yet, despite my resolve to linger, 
I find myself running, 
not walking, 
toward him.

I dashed to leap into his embrace, 
as if the universe behind us crumbled, 
a cataclysm of chaos. 
I soared into his arms, 
the ethereal glow enveloping me, 
consuming my very essence. 
Then, I hesitated, 
swinging slowly on the chains of uncertainty, 
wondering if I should seek his lips again, 
or would it lead to a harsh awakening from this dream? 

Around us, a vast, sleepless city throbbed, 
they say it boasts more skyscrapers than anywhere, 
and its inhabitants linger longer than most. 
Perhaps it’s true, 
for here, I first tasted eternity’s caress. 
I glimpsed distant galaxies, 
reflected in the sorrowful, myopic gaze before me. 
Just before he leaned in, 
his soft kiss stole my breath away. 
“Is it a jest, uh?” he murmured, 
“I waited for you on the brink of the world, 
beneath a synthetic sun, 
clinging to hope, 
yet expecting nothing…”

[2025]