Besides the rain, there are pieces.
In the north, a page of letters hangs on the iron fence.
Curled up the wings,
three times, three times can't fly away,
and
my heart is a wandering sand.
Sunset on the road,
I met a woman
with her eyes down.
YOU ARE READING
Tigress from the east
PoetryA poetry collection written by a Chinese girl. Biggest life goal of her: sitting in perfect balance of daylights and nights, back towards a mysterious naked tree, a cup of chai is better than coffee. Thinking, turn a being as living
