Butterfly Lovers
Hands up. The piano sounded.
An ancient love, with time, through time and space, like an absolutely beautiful woman, drifted from far to near.
Quietly wandering in front of the window, let the excitement rest in loneliness. I dare not expect too much, for fear of disturbing butterflies with low interest.
Butterflies, as if from Xishuangbanna, bounce on two strings, layer upon layer, dense.
The sound of books and butterflies flowed slowly from the strings. Palace in the sky, I don't know what year it is.
A thin roll of love, chewed repeatedly and full of bitterness, swims between lips and teeth.
A heavy thunder, will resentment, gathering and scattering blow black and blue. Once the oath was blown down by a gust of wind and fell in the time and space of life and death.