你講嗰場雨，我只聽見簷邊滴水。我唔再急住替你叫佢做晴天。張凳移開少少，等你嗰句，慢慢落地。
未必同感，仍可相遇
Still, we meet.
我唔使成為你，先至可以為你留白。
My map keeps its own north.I unfold the cornerthat has covered your handwriting.The road stops at the edge of this sheet.Yours continues somewhereI cannot point to.