That night, I listened to Sanskrit singing all night, not for enlightenment, but just to find a trace of your breath.
In that month, I turned all the prayer wheels, not for salvation, but just to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I bowed my head and hugged the dust, not to worship Buddha, but just to stay close to your warmth.
In that life, I traveled across hundreds of thousands of mountains, not to cultivate the next life, but just to meet you on the road.
Aixinjueluo. Yinzhen, just for you.
--Nala Yuling