Missing is a bottle of brewed wine

jocelynxu

The longer the wine is stored,
The mellower the perfume will spread.
So is missing.

Picking it up from the corner of thoughts,
Immersing herself in the sea of memory.
That is missing.

The smoke winding off at distance,
Brimming waves leaving faraway,
They are telling the missing.

Missing,
Progessing
And fading