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文/何强
“脚下的那片泥土,每抓起一把,都一定会攥出血来。”
-- 诗人芒克
血洗的黄昏,土埙的长音焚进骨髓呻吟,远处萌生了一缕落红满径的氤氲
地老天荒的梵音,唯美的邂逅,那一年的风,悄悄掀起初春的短裙
前缘一吻,思垢点染摇曳的那一抹顾影自怜,一曲流觞夜击残红香盈
Love is the soil
Earthen two-string fiddle of women
— miniature Prose poetry
Author: HeQiang
"At the foot of the piece of clay, each grabbed a, will hold a bleeding."
— poet MangKe
A bloodbath of dusk, the long sound of soil two-string fiddle moans burn into the bone marrow, the initiation of a wisp of no full diameter dense
The Vatican sound of the end of time, beautiful met, that a year of wind, quietly lifted spring skirt
Front a kiss, think scale transition, swaying the self-pity, a song of renovation of works night hit the red fragrant surplus
何强
地址:安徽省合肥市亳州路畅园新村72栋405室
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邮箱:hqyhyh@yahoo.com.cn
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