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I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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前进街１１８号：第0章 This entry was posted on 8/8/2006 4:38 PM and is filed under 118 Qianjin Street. 据说我八个月大的时候便会说话了。人问：“你叫什么呀？”我答：“胖胖。” “家住哪里呀？” “前－进－街－１－１－８号。” 那已经是三十几年前的事了。 从那时候起，我的人生就和这个地址有了割不断的千丝万缕的联系。如今，它像一块茶色玻璃，裂成了碎片，散落在我记忆的最深处。我以为自己早已将它遗忘甚至抛弃，但那些尖锐的棱角却时时地闪着光，在不经意的时候刺痛我的某根神经，让我欲罢不能地拾起这些碎片，隔着暗淡的颜色，回首往事。 CommentsDisplay comments as (Linear | Threaded)
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, Chanah.|
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