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九月夏末的上午,麓山脚下,阳光有些晃眼,穿过叶隙,撒下一地的种子;
时间慢得要停下来,树枝摇颤,像快没电的时钟,秒针在一刻之间来回游走,发出细碎的响声。
林中空无一人,青苔渗出新绿,我们仿佛沉在世界的湖底,
藤蔓的触须肆意生长着,爬上脚尖;轻风扬起你金色丝绒一样的发梢,
肌肤像云朵,轻盈充满,披着光瀑的金边。
我们铺开野餐布,安静躺下,随着自然的呼吸沉潜;如同香草冰激凌,在新煎的蛋筒里,慢慢消融。
.......
Paracelsus说,认为所有水果都像草莓一样同时成熟的人,对于葡萄一无所知。
关于水果,味觉的记忆如此短暂而不可信,但我仍能想起那个夏末,
你手心那一捧火焰的鲜红,还有那清澈的阳光,穿透世界的湖面,印在身体上的温暖。
九月,夏末,石榴红了,
每念至此,时光,和你。
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