滩涂

天空飘来一朵云
如果没有人欣赏
他会觉得孤单吗
海风把云的影子分割
成影影绰绰的波光
那是让我变狂野的药水
等待她到来时才会爆发
我从不浪费我有限的才华
然而
我不吝啬在梦里浪费时间
浪费梦里的美好
错过那些我感受不到的时光
我试图感同身受云的灵魂
如果他有灵魂的话
会不会像我一样孤单
如果他有灵魂的话
会不会哭求得不到的自由
我发现这是徒劳
我只是一只蜷在壳里的螃蟹
我并没有那么全知全能
更谈不上伟岸
我看到的只有眼前的泥沙
我吃的只是眼前的蜉蝣
我甚至不知道自己在
一个礁石环绕的海塘里
听着永恒的浪潮
还以为自己在无尽的大海
我有一个美丽的外壳
上面画满了规整的斑纹
我的肉体受到她的保护
因为大鱼进不来这个小小的滩涂
我的爱情得益于这份赐赠
因为萍水相逢的邂逅不需要太多浪漫
而我还和这个世界相安无事

我张开我的血盆大口
让你亲个够

✨ 3. Lyrical Prose

A lone cloud drifted over the mudflats this morning, and I couldn’t help but wonder—if no one gazes up, would it still ache for attention? The sea wind stretched its shadow into a thousand shimmering threads, each one a whisper, a drug waiting to stir my blood. But not yet—not until she comes. I conserve my gifts like a miser, yet I squander time in dreams as if they were endless.

I imagine the cloud has a soul, or something like it. Maybe it too feels what I do—a hunger for freedom, an ache for meaning. But this is foolish, I know. I’m no oracle. I’m a crab tucked deep in my shell, wise only to the grit before me. I chew on fleeting things, blind to the walls that keep the larger world at bay. I thought I knew the ocean. It was only a tidepool, ringed with stone.

My shell is beautiful—etched in patterns, solid. It keeps the predators out, gives my soft love a space to live. Here, romance doesn’t need moonlight or poetry. Just proximity. Just survival. And I—somehow—still get along with the world.

So open-mouthed, I wait.

Come. Kiss me until you’ve had your fill.