Chinese flowering crab-apple without perfume
— miniature Prose poetry
The author／HeQiang
"At the foot of the piece of clay, each grabbed a, will hold a bleeding."
— poet MangKe
Several desire I with my eyes to pick up the pieces, the past is in the air leaving traces, hitom whistle ran aground in the blue brick flies in the path
Some unfinished and are thinking of dry red petals, drink a cup of coffee, unable to resist the mood of a luxury
Clouds were burning terminator, stirring in the tender feelings, unable to stop under the pen never miss flowering...
