广场的塔尖,成了一只鹰绽放忧郁的黑魂。纵横高原几度风雨,不肯飞走……它目睹了瓦斯爆炸后孤儿寡母们内心的荒凉,它历经猎枪喷吐的火花。远眺炼焦厂的团团浓烟,像黑海一样的淤血凝固了乌蒙草民的咽喉。眼皮底下,温馨的红灯区内一群打工的山妹子柔嫩的子宫填满了荣华富贵的残汤剩水。 Square spire, has become an eagle bloom melancholy black soul. The vertical and horizontal plateau several times, refused to fly ...... It witnessed the bleakness of the orphans widowed after the gas explosion, it has been shot through the shotgun sparks. Coking plant overlooking the mass of smoke, the same as the Black Sea, the blood coagulation of Wumei Cao people’s throat. Under the eyelids, the warm red light district a group of working mountain sister tender uterus filled with rich and sparse residual soup.