【在威尼斯渡口徘徊】

印象诗人、作家哲骧

<p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">摄影:</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">作者摄于威尼斯水城</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">作者:印象诗人哲骧</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">美篇号:1903602</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">贡多拉用肋骨丈量黄昏</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">七座石桥在雾中溶解成铜镜</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我数台阶,数心跳,数钟楼第三次咳嗽</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">大理石缝隙里钻出深褐色的鸽群</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">潮水舔舐着生锈的船锚</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">候船厅玻璃映出十七种蓝</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">有人把硬币抛向亚得里亚海的皱纹</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">波纹里浮起金箔般细碎的年份</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">十二月的裙摆熄灭了灯塔</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">面具后的眼睛正在结冰</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我试图用体温捂热售票机</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">而电子屏闪烁的红色数字</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">是溺亡者尚未闭合的瞳孔</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">有人用罗盘校准月亮的缺口</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">有人把船票叠成告解室形状</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我数着桥洞下摇晃的星群</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">直到钟声像硬币沉入水底</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">直到自己的影子长出裂痕</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">海藻在脚踝编织倒刺的网</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">贝壳吐出淤积的盐粒与年份</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">当退潮卷走最后一声汽笛</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">台阶上散落着空酒瓶与指纹</span></p>