一那夜的月光太诡异了,到处是它的白手指。你靠在古桥沉厚的石栏上,下颌长出前朝的苔藓。月亮的白手指在上面拂过来拂过去。我徜徉其间,错把你当成船了,情不自禁想登上去,又不敢。正犹豫,已被你一把握住。那一刻,我听见河水妖精般狡黠地笑出声,我有些晕眩。好吧好吧,我承认,触摸是捅破窗户纸的第一步。月光变本加厉,你模糊得斑驳恍惚。影子交错歪斜,把我想问的话弄得零零散散。 The moonlight of that night is too weird, full of white fingers. You lean on the thick stone columns of the ancient bridge, the mandible grows the front of the moss. The white moon of the moon blushes over it. I am in the meantime, wrong to treat you as a boat, can not help but want to board to go, but also afraid. Is hesitating, has been a grasp of you. At that moment, I heard the river fairy laughed slyly and I was a little dizzy. Okay, OK, I admit, touch is the first step to piercing the window paper. Moonlight intensified, you mottled mottled trance. The shadow is staggered and skewed, fragmented the words I want to ask.