When you live somewhere for a decade and a half, it builds layers Like the year rings on a tree trunk, snippets and scraps of a past time Layers upon layers, new upon the old Layers and rings and scraps of memories A stack of books on my desk...
Those rose-colored memories– too baggy on her frail frame. grubby little hands ravenous for distant dreams stuck in the sky. do you hear the low humming– the growing restlessness in the nape of your neck a slight itch– it bothers you perpetually but it’s small...
迷茫中， 我窥见隐隐约约的 幸福—— 长不大的橘子树， 长久不落的日光， 头上带雪瓣的小狗… 活在世间， 犹如鹅毛渗在云朵里–– 睁眼就是自由。 指针不再转动。 春风里， 天崩地裂， 呼吸不在轻松。
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The hills were lit with morning’s flame, Though not a soul yet stirred or came. The fog lay thick upon the land— A hush the world could understand. I dropped the bruised key to all I knew Beneath a stone the moss clung to. The wind came by and...
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