The Moon Knows

He fled from Shanghai, Covered in rain, full of fatigue, pockets empty. He is a quiet clay sculpture craftsman in a small town, Keep secrets and keep loneliness. A theft caused two strangers to live under the same lamp. One month, thirty days, seven hundred and twenty hours. They have finished talking their whole life, I have made love for a lifetime, I shed a lifetime of tears. The moon hangs on the old locust tree, The wishing lot was flying in the wind. The lights go out and they embrace. The lights come on and they let go. The moon knows it. Only they don't say it.