Be your best friend by means of literary ground.
Be honest, be genuine, be candid.
Be your best friend by means of literary ground.
Communicate and exchange with each other.
First, your texts leap out and dance with mine.
I am fond of you at the start.
I mean my texts are willing to be acquainted and have fun with you.
Because your texts describe that the waltz is the most straightforward dance.
Your text administrator makes gentle and soft responses to every lonely writer.
I prefer the waltz the most.
Watching you dance with duet, with others, and dance lightly and gracefully, I can't help but dance to the music with my insanity.
At that time, you stared at me intriguingly.
I mean my writings.
Afterwards, you drew a wild rose without thorns for me, and pulled it out from the top of drawing paper.
Lively colors brought forth fragrance.
After that, you held me, and we stared at each other.
One of your hands slid down my smooth back, then to my waist, softly hugged me to your chest and started swinging with me.
We danced out of the hall all the way to a secluded space where there was neither one nor each other's master.
In the serene space, Erik Satie's "Gymnopèdie No.1"was performed.
We were affectionate to hug mutually.
You mentioned that I was the most glaring boy at the party.
After the end of music, you seemed to remember something, ran back to the hall and started to...
Flirt with your friends by means of literary ground.
I stayed in the corner with my torn clothes, feeling so cold and so upset.
In the end, I let the owl take a corner of my tattered clothes to search for you so that the secret could not be disclosed to anyone in the party.
The owl came back but didn't bring you back.
In order to let the owl fly a round again, I could only tear off another corner of my clothes.
Eventually, you came back this time, gently wrapped me with your big coat and brought a bunch of flowers that you hastily picked as the explosive purple petals were splashed by rain.
"I'm so sorry! It's my fault."You said.
I cleaned up my appearance, put on your coat, and my tears had already been dry.
Your car has left the parking lot.
I walk into the hall and have a seat.
Indeed, we are all immaculately dressed with beautiful and destructive power.
When I saw you stand on the dance floor, I miss that day when your texts intruded into my mind.
衣冠齊楚 文 字 派 對
用以文會友的方式
坦胸露乳。
用以文會友的方式
跟大家交流。
首先,你的文字跳出來與我的文字共舞。
其實不是!
是我的文字想要認識你,跟你一起玩。
因為你的文字說廣場舞是最簡單的舞,還有一些文風不動的溫柔。
看著你與大家群魔亂舞、翩翩起舞,我忍不住隨著音樂一個人跳舞。
那時候,你興致盎然瞧我(我是指我文字工廠 裡的字)。
然後,為我畫了一朵沒有荊棘的野玫瑰,從圖畫紙上抽出來,活色生香。
接著你牽著我,與我對望,一隻手滑到我光滑的背脊,然後到腰窩,把我順便輕擁著帶到你的胸前,開始與我搖擺,我們一路跳出了大廳,到一個隱蔽的空間,那裡沒有人,也沒有我們彼此的主人。
你在偏僻的角落將手探進我的裙子,你封緘我的聲音用手跟嘴唇,並用充滿厚繭的手指從後方粗魯的抱緊我,我搖搖欲墜時你又跑回大廳開始
以文會友。
我在角落有些冷,露出孤單北半球。最後只好拿髮帶讓貓頭鷹叼過去找你,不能被主人發現。
貓頭鷹回來了但沒帶你來,我又讓貓頭鷹去了一趟,只能再撕下衣服的一角。
你這次終於來了,輕輕把你的大外套包在我身上,帶來一束你胡亂摘的花,像被雨水打過一樣炸開的紫色花瓣。
你整理裝束扒扒頭髮「對不起,是我不好。」
我收拾自己的外表,披著你的外衣,擦乾眼淚。
你的車子離開了停車場;
我走進大廳找了個位置坐下,
披著你的外套,
尋下一個舞伴。
是的,
我們都衣冠楚楚。
概念提供:以文會友王
文:Nam
譯:Sandy Tao
圖:熟齡文青