She and Her

Ribbons of green

Grass,

Plastic

Twirled in soaked strands of her

Hair.

Entwined with mine

Under her jacket,

Blue.

Her tongue,

Pink.

Dabbled lightly

On mine

as Winter

Slipped over the sliver of petal

Squirming from the lips of Spring.

We were six, then,

Or seven.

And then I was eight,

Or nine.

And then it was autumn.

I stepped into a nest of red

Desks

And she walked

Towards me

Against the

Quiet green classroom wall

Quiet

Like she is

And unlike her.

The green bits of plastic grass from the field

brushed off

With the blue jacket

The colors melt

In the black ink of books we read

Sat against the

The white wall of the classroom.

Now

I fathom

And drip words

Toil and trouble

From my

Red tongue

Into the mouths of others

And usher them along

Lanes of caves and rounded paths

With a camel, a lion, and a child

Lanes I have barely touched upon with the

soles of my bare foot.

Now and then I fathom

Of she and her.

I knit the green ribbons

Into my hair

And dabble at the ink-black words

Realizing

Realizing

乔，秋，和我

乔，

将丝丝缕缕的绿

从操场

盗走，

黏在她被汗浸渍的发丝里

我将那丝丝杂草从她发丝间

摘去

盖上她的蓝色大衣，

我的发丝沾染她的汗水

流淌

黏腻，

我与她的舌头

瞬间

触碰

缠绕，

如冬雨滴落

新春的花瓣，

刹那

顺着沉重的雨滴

亲吻地面

那年我们六岁

或七岁

后来我八岁了

或者已步入九岁

记不得了，

但记得，那是秋天。

圈圈红色课桌

围剿我。

秋，

迎面走来

静静地

如她一般。

她，

拂去我发丝间的杂草

它们同蓝色大衣一同飘向地面

蓝与绿，融为一体

流入一颗颗黑色的字眼

它们嵌在白色纸张上，

我们抱着啃食。

如今，

浓稠的墨色粘液从我嘴角流下

被黑色字眼沾染

但尚未过胃

便被一股脑吐出。

“骆驼、狮子、和孩童”

那粘液丝丝呢喃，

蠕动着，

流向身旁粉色的唇瓣中，

（那是盛夏的花瓣，它经历过春和去年的秋冬）

如今，

我将操场上的杂草

编入发辫

（用更钝的牙齿）啃食

黑色字眼和白色纸张，

我意识到。。。