A Feng replied coldly, is it a poem? Isn't it a parallelism sentence? Just like her usual cold style. But her next words still deserve to be my best friend: "Poetry is abstract, but it can be abstract to your heart."
So, she pushed a link to me on WeChat and opened the book "Moonlight in the Left Hand-Poems by Yu Xiuhua".
Reading Yu Xiuhua's poems for the first time, to be honest, is not the feeling of traditional poetry. Not beautiful enough, not rhyming enough, not singing enough, not high enough. But just like Shen Rui's preface to this book, it is "amazing imagination, amazing power of language". It's hard to imagine that reading poetry will bring sudden tingling. I will frown, panting, and read those two words that hurt me twice, still shocked. This is the most common feeling when reading Yu Xiuhua's poems.
Her words opened a door to the core of life for me. I didn't pursue the meaning of life, but just crushed all kinds of emotions given by life in front of you-looking directly at her, there was no other way.