背影的独白

她的背
是一幅静默的画，
泛黄的笔触，
男人的痕迹规律，却锋利，
在她的皮肤压抑美妙的伤痕，
如羊群一样的叫声，饱含某种失控的柔软。
Her back, a silent canvas,
with yellowed strokes,
etched by the sharp, rhythmic marks of men,
their pressure carving delicate wounds,
like cries of a scattered flock, trembling with softness on the edge of control.

她靠在桌沿是一道结束，
也是她不肯放弃的开始。
Leaning on the table’s edge,
she is both an ending
and the beginning she refuses to abandon.

柔和的背影仿佛说着：
“我，仍然美丽。”
即使伤痕如影随形她，
依然选择将背影，
轻轻托付给世界，
那将是现代的表现。
Her gentle silhouette seems to whisper:
“I am still beautiful.”
Though scars cling to her like shadows,
she chooses to offer her back,
gently to the world,
a quiet act of modern grace.

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