night

The night is just an imaginary hotbed

Pray for the dawn

I can only use the invisible light and

My words

Feed your body language

Please give me a cup of qingming tea in the countryside

In her mother's calloused hands

His strong sense is like his father's eyes

After one gulp

Can a drop of tear overflow moonlight sky

The whistling wind whirled in place

Watch out for the moss by the well

Waiting for a horse

To tread in the dark

I just want my body to get used to tears

Until one day

The streets are free of tedious lights

I snuffed out gray thinking in panic

The letter you wrote to me

Are you still describing the pain of a foreign land

The bridge of night did not fall

A poem rested on the pier of the bridge

It didn't blow away

Many soft eyes looked up under the winter snow

The little wooden boat you rowed made a splash

My passion

Still rippling in place