A few years ago, I found a modern poem named Ci in Reader. Among them, there are a few words: Are you leaving at this time?

give up

Modern Liao Yiwu

I told you not to go near these poems, these stones, the sun and water, these

Imaginary heaven, I said you should control those timid hands.

Every word here is growing, and they automatically aggregate. Over.

It has become a kind of beauty, a masterpiece, but they are completing this beauty or uniqueness.

Before singing, it gradually decayed and became a very thin thing.

If you recite a poem silently, it is equivalent to tearing a piece of silk, which is equivalent to

If you hurt a piece of skin, you will see that the wound becomes a little red and swollen.

Clean, spread, and finally rot your idol alive. Beautiful people are always thin.

, such as paper, snow, feathers, silk, petals, beautiful, flying and so on.

Thin as a noun. You want something, but you can't get anything. In collapse

Behind the beauty of failure is an emptiness, an infinite loneliness, and beauty itself is an emptiness.

, dazzling and charming hole.

I said you control those timid hands!