你和我死于撞车比死于坠毁的机会

要大5000倍

如果这说法为真

我们就应该接吻

我们此刻正在接吻

于机场外的滂沱大雨中

每天早晨揉着惺忪的睡眼，我们接吻

每次你或我抄起钥匙要出门，我们接吻

使劲地吻啊，以记录下

嘴唇的摩擦

记录下两个脑袋的偏斜相对

记录下唇上的些许咸味

我们想永远珍存的那种灼烧感或融化感

如星云般无边无沿

柳树摇曳

见证着我们四季的吻别

见证着我们屏住的呼吸

见证着我们独一份的互相凝睇

我们的吻无惧风雨与过往车辆溅起的水花

无惧雷霆，无惧其他司机的喇叭

我们俩一人要进屋

另一人要开车远离

我们最后一次对视的笑容

穿过来回摆动的雨刮器----

这雨刮器便是锋利的刀剑

越来越快地刺向心坎

（原诗如下）

If it’s true, you, me,

five thousand times more likely

to crash in a car than
in a plane, we should kiss

as we are kissing now—outside
the airport, in a downpour—

every bleary morning, every time
one of us grabs the keys,

kiss hard enough to register
the friction, the precise

tilt of our heads, hint of salt
on our lips, heat or thaw

of something nebulous,
edgeless, that we long to carry—

a willow tree swaying with all
our many-weathered kisses,  

the fringe of every held breath,
and this one-and-only gaze

in the rain, in the splatter—
the car horns and thunder—

one of us to head inside,
the other to drive away,

our last smiles flashing
through the pulse of wipers—

blades sweeping fast, faster.