
It's 7:26 in the evening
Stand lamp like a star
The train sobbed and the rain poured down
The man by the window
Through morning and dusk, give this journey a
A light, hazy kiss
Books of flying poetry spread lightly on the little table
Your pure white hands touch the night inside the car
It was rustling and turning
I'm on the paper
The story of this time, mottled
Someone is listening, someone is talking
The journey of the bird is the sky, the journey of the fish is the river
The journey of the heart is the grassland at the foot of a wild horse
The journey of a train is not through the city



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