Lishui left. In our home, a kitchen knife penetrated her chest and blood spurted to the ceiling.
I looked at the bloody room, like a ventricle, wrapped in small, small, water.
Her eyes were wide open, and her dry, lip-glossed mouth was open. The winding blood stains covered his naked body, and the large areas of bruises merged into a piece of life, covering this barren land.
This piece of land is so thin that under the thin skin, the ribs are clearly defined, like a layer of snow falling on the crisscrossing hills.
I wanted to kiss her cold body.
I want to boil her with my tears.
The bullet pierced my eyebrow, and I saw Lishui coming to pick me up.
Intention: Sick bones give rise to flowers