禮拜三，
風掀起你衫袖，
未夠放工，
心已偷偷鬆開一粒鈕。

夜色未深，
茶未涼，
你望我一眼，
成個禮拜都軟咗半分。

Wednesday

The breeze lifts
the cuff of your sleeve.
The workday isn’t over,
yet one hidden button
inside the heart
has quietly come undone.

Night has not settled.
The tea is still warm.
You look at me once,
and the whole week
learns how to soften.