Do you mind that the tracks of love are two parallel lines?
He was complaining about the moment he passed by,
I'm looking for your haunting presence,
Maybe it's far away, maybe it's close at hand.
Maybe one day,
I turned around, but you turned around and passed by,
Maybe that day, you were paying attention, but I was speechless.
I used to like to say some profound words to highlight my knowledge, but you always said with disdain that it was so superficial. But there was one thing I said correctly: how hurtful a love is, it means how touching it used to be.
Time is shattering in front of our eyes inch by inch, and the ground is covered with fragments of the original, extending to the end. We are not wrong, we are just wrongly loved by this time.