思念 (si-nian)

by ty

with parallel lines across her forearm

she smiled at the constellations,

he used to speak with soft tones,

every line which slipped through his dry lips

incoherent fragments meant to be left

separated.

burnt paper and crumpled promises,

they weren’t parallel lines

with the fortune of an interchange.

yet they both learnt lessons,

severing memories from empty souls;

trembling backs barely in contact,

her choice of route the converse of his.

love is often said to be the antithesis of selfishness-

and she could only wonder if

it was once humane

to break one’s wings.

AN: once again, lines because wp hates my line spacings. for the same one.

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