Do you still remember the white tower that lingered under your fingertips on that brown paper?
You said, you want to build me a city with a tower of dawn rendered by halo
You said that no matter how beautiful the night sky is, it is no match for the stars in your eyes.
I remember your smile, it's the bright sun that is loved by angels
I remember your hair, dark and gorgeous. And that day, it was raining heavily, and your eyebrows were wet by the moonlight in the Mugot Cemetery.
We can't go back, I remember telling you.
Many years later, we stood outside the cemetery again, you in a suit and tie, and we looked at each other from a distance. Then you ask me, who are you.
Although I can't remember how many people have passed through my life, I always feel that there is a sycamore tree, an epiphyllum branch, and a person accidentally taking a deep breath under the frost leaves, touching the brown cowhide book with his fingertips. Accompanied by longing, it disappears at the end of my gaze.