精華區beta poetry 關於我們 聯絡資訊
in the attic a flock of doves; they mean to love. Everyday when there's twilight, they're sent out to dawn. But there's one of them, unlike them, somewhat darkerand his eyes do rove. He is not sent, and he cannot love. So he grows darker, and darker, until he can perfectly lurk in the darkest corner. Wait, and wait does he. One after another he blinds them with beak to let them see. -- ※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.cc) ◆ From: 61.64.195.83