When you handed me half an umbrella, my rainy season had just passed.
We are like two broken parts in the gap between each other,
I found the sound of the gears just meshing.
Only later did I understand
The real salvation is not about who pulls someone into the sun,
But two shadows sit side by side in the long night,
With their own remaining warmth,
Warm up a small piece of tomorrow's soil for each other
We each met with a lamp that was about to go out. When we exchanged oil lamps, we discovered that the deepest darkness was not falling alone, but thinking that there was no other hand in the world holding the same glimmer of light tremblingly. So vines grew out of the ruins, and when I pulled you, you caught me firmly.
Wound against wound, light against light, we became each other's reason not to fall down, but also became a place where each other could fall down.
It turns out that the deepest salvation is to finally dare to say to someone: "I need you too." And that person looks into your eyes and replies: "I'm already here."
We saw each other in the broken mirror. It was not who saved the other, but two people crossing the river who stood as a bridge to each other.
Concept: We are each other's candlelight and the long night, completing the shape of light in the alternation of light and dark.