If I have seen the city you have seen and walked the road you have passed, can I be closer to you? And I will really forget the harm you have caused and only remember your beauty. In the eight years I have known you, you have been walking and I have been running, but in the end, I still cannot catch up with you. Memories have been crushed by time for seven or eight years, but there is still some existence, always like a newly placed diamond in the dust, shining with new light in the dust.
Memories are like the transparent fruits that scatter when you cut open a pomegranate.
The pieces are scattered around the feet that are usually not noticed.
It was illuminated by the sun and turned into a faded but always green pink.
When I pick it up again, life is as warm as before.
You have also been holding your cell phone in a lonely night, waiting for text messages and calls, and you were feeling uneasy. You have also sat on a park bench at dawn in midsummer and stayed up all night watching the sparse stars in the sky. You can even stand under the street lights at dusk, watching the moths fluttering, and feel like crying. . . .
Every night when those who are chasing love, being lonely, persistent, or infatuated and tossing and turning, there are falling flowers and catkins flying. . . Before it touches the other party, it touches myself first. It is finally melted and healed by time.