Every midnight, she would step into the same dream.
There are gardens that never fade, and dusk that lasts forever,
And a girl in a mist-colored dress with ink-like eyebrows.
They walked side by side in the sticky cycle of time, their fingertips occasionally touching,
Exchange silence and unspoken throbbing.
Until that voice sounded deep in my consciousness:
"It's time for you to go."
Leaving means drying with your own hands the garden that imprisoned her and healed her,
Let the figure that is as solid as stone in your heart crack and dissipate when you are awake.
To stay is to drown in the illusory tenderness of eternity.
I chose to wake up.
But I found every crack in reality,
All seeped into the melting dust of dreams——
The luster of water drops, the touch of wind, a certain section of porcelain white neck...
A tiny twinge of pain followed him everywhere.
When the thread leading to the dream falls again,
She chose to return and give the most decisive farewell:
Seal the garden and the girl with a kiss,
Melted into a transparent mark in the soul.
[Tips before visiting]
· Glass candy/stream of consciousness
Intention: dream