Clandestine two

We are hidden.
We are obscure.
We keep to ourselves
Between dusk and dawn.

We are symbols, not words. 
Impossible to read
Out of context.

Place us in a book store
Or in a film, or by a drawing 
In a gallery.
You will have us.
We are there, 

Only not quite—the remnant of 
Polluted meanings, 
Selected with an excerpt 
Of your favourite song. 

When you are almost 
Done with interpretation—
We are no more.
We are gone.

Dale Chou
2012-07-16