几月是花期,我不分明;回忆那么远,一年又一年。可踮起脚尖,我总是能看见你的影子。你在游离的光线下牵着我的手,低着头,一直走,好像可以走过无数个漫长的黑夜。是似曾相识的天气,蝉声仄仄碎在耳边,九月的太阳很活泼地铺在地面。身边一群人跑过,有轻微且细小的空气旋涡在酝酿。我侧过身,撞见他。彼时的模样如今早已蒙上茫茫大雾,一颦一笑都已带上了“过去”的前提。唯一清楚的,是有一次他说:“小霏子,你一直板着脸不好,开心一 Months are flowering, I am not clear; memories so far, year after year. Can tiptoe, I can always see your shadow. You hold my hand in the free light, head down, and walk all the way, as if I can walk countless long nights. Is a deja vu weather, cicadas crumble in the ear, the sun in September is very lively on the ground. Around a group of people ran, there is a slight and small air whirlpool brewing. I lean over and hit him. The appearance of that time has now cast a vast fog, a smile has brought the ”past “ premise. The only clear is that once he said: ”Xiao Fei child, you have a bad face, happy one