十月,飞鸟沉沦,你从灼热的边缘走向清凉,以一只棉虫的姿态摸索雨后的残云和晚风。蝉声瘦弱,天色如生命之升华退下羽壳,撩起面纱,她饱满的色泽堆积着日渐嶙峋的忧郁。爱人不眠,柔眸似水,银河的彼岸坐落着琉璃的宫殿,是否有精巧的工匠手持玉器,精心雕琢未眠的草木?你裸露在外的指纹拈取苍白的记忆。你衣衫单薄的肌肤点染露水的微凉。 In October, as the birds sink, you move from the glowing edge to the coolness, groping for the aftermath of the rain and the breeze with the attitude of a cotton bug. Cicadas thin, the sky as the sublimation of life to retire the feathers, lifted the veil, her plump color piled with increasingly gloomy melancholy. Love does not sleep, Roumou like water, the other side of the Galaxy is located in the glass of the palace, whether there are exquisite craftsman hand-held jade, elaborate carved wood? Fingerprints bare you pick pale memories. Your clothes thin skin point dew cool.