It’s pouring rain—lightning flashes and thunder roars

Somehow I miss it: back in Dali, in the courtyard’s corridor, days when we ate homemade hot pot together—also with rain falling

Back then, we were just young

But before college—those days are never something I miss. They were hard, poor times, with no warmth

When it rains next time and I start missing it, I don’t know how many years from now it will be

Source: @seaify1 on X
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