一网云烟

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Straying

(2014-02-28 19:31:28) 下一个

Our words crossed each other
as night blends with moonlight naturally
Nothing special
yet we felt the intangibles
As if the little fireball got its fuel
from shooting stars
except that the words are flying up
as cloud of dreams
It may eventually become dust
as we eventually will
but words like to stay on their own
to tell the story about some shooting stars
of straying souls

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