Flying brows
Hanging from the corner of the eye
Eighteen years young,
Slowly smile.
It's still dark.
In the positive wind.
The spring is cold and cold.
Squinting into chaos,
Red and green.
Stack some stars in the sky.
But when the curtain is opened, there is only a blue demon curled up in the courtyard.
(The trick to trick a lamb into a trap... Actually has nothing to do with the main text, hahaha!)