"The clouds are sinking"
——I tried to find a surname in the texture of the clouds, but I only touched the blank space in the sky.
The clouds all over the sky are migrating
They carry mountains, sheep and unfinished letters on their backs
In a feather-shaped gap
The sky reveals a light blue background
Like the radical in your last name
Always maintaining the arc of wanting to speak but hesitating
I checked all the weather maps:
Cirrus cannot be identified, Stratus refuses to speak
Cumulonimbus clouds brewing thunderous perjury
High-altitude winds break water vapor into smaller riddles
It turns out that disappearance can be so vast
Use the whole sky to store a single syllable
Until migratory birds start practicing flashback flight
The clouds suddenly revealed their gilded edges——
That's the last part of your last name
The pause that suddenly lights up before disappearing
And I finally learned to look up every time
Let your eyes go around gently
All clouds that look like "shen"
Motto: Love can be found