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她
他一个人在黑夜中驾驶者汽车，
枯萎的树枝倒影在一侧车窗急速晃过
余光里像是摇摇摆摆的鬼影
他手上的茧融化成一道道伤痕
有的疼，有的痒，不断蔓延，爬满全身
甚至深入膏肓，在肋骨间织起一面网
他背影佝偻，步履蹒跚，用力的关上车门
黑色的手套黑色的拐杖，黑色的礼帽下银白的头发
他推开一扇门
迎接他的是黑色的猫，白色的狗，红色的地毯
关上门，昂贵的沙发，红酒
他点燃香烟，站起来
他看着的墙壁上，悬挂着无数的画像
有深有浅，有模糊有清晰，有新有旧，有喜有乐
他捂着胸口，驻足在那副1216下
他想她
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