:真不忍心把清冷的月亮独个儿晾在外头烟圈被嘴唇过滤爬至头顶就开出朵朵飘散的花可是它们离月亮依然很远我在四楼伸出的手指触风冰凉弹出的烟蒂于一道美丽的弧线中熄灭那是火星咬进生命里的黑然后我回房让睡眠独自在床上难产——月亮的心事该有多重啊在执意流淌的河水里浸着那 : I really couldn’t bear to keep the cold moon alone hanging out in the outer smoke ring. I was filtered by the lips and crawled to the top of the head to create a blossoming flower. But they were still far away from the moon. My fingers sticking out on the fourth floor touched the cold and the cigarette butts popped out. It’s extinguished in a beautiful arc that Mars is biting into the black of life and then I go back to the room and let it sleep alone in bed. The moon’s mind should be multiple, soaking in the flowing river.