Flowing clouds rolled across the sky, and the evening light poured down like a waterfall from the cracked gaps. We once sat on the clock tower of that city and looked down at the earth. Squandering overflowing youth, the hours are filled with the beautiful fragrance of roses.
The wind passed between me and him, and I looked at the way he raised his head. Deep eyebrows, high bridge of nose, thin lips, wind-blown hair. Simple and clean scent.
This is the man I once loved. I would stand up, open my arms, and plunge into his arms. He was so thin that every hug could feel his obvious ribs and spine through his thick sweater. I gently stroked his back with my fingers, those bulges always made me feel bad.
He likes that kind of very long coat. He said that it can wrap me up, close to the hot beating heart in his chest, and give me warmth. When he held me, he lowered his head and pressed close to my face. The world fell silent for an instant, returning to its original tranquility. The iris gradually climbed up all the hillsides, and the pearl-like dewdrops flowing down the four-leaf clover blades reflected the eternal light, which reflected into my slightly narrowed eyes.