A blossom in the sun, a budding growing singularity, tended everyday with care, soon to be chosen, and savored as a fine wine, an inebriating liquid yearning to overflow.
Then, at its peak, overlooked - its essence never to be tasted, withheld from parched lips, left to become a raisin.
2 comments:
A blossom in the sun,
a budding growing singularity,
tended everyday with care,
soon to be chosen, and
savored as a fine wine,
an inebriating liquid yearning
to overflow.
Then, at its peak, overlooked -
its essence never to be tasted,
withheld from parched lips,
left to become a raisin.
喂，还没有分解叻。
哇，Bert，原来你这样有诗意的啊？
Post a Comment