every minute every second,
lying in the heart of the river,
the whirlpool of feelings rushes out,
every vivid visage.
A beautiful poem torn to powder and dust,
every inch of time,
all lives extend downwards,
into the underground,
geocentric temperature is not so high,
some soft light.
The tide inundates his forehead,
under the bright moonlight,
gecko-infested wall collapsed,
some things are worth practicing,
a way of life.
Benjamin and Daisy,
a sad but not tragic ending,
awaiting to remove makeup.