那首诗写的不错 Close, close. all night the lovers keep. They turn together in their sleep, Close as two pages in a book that read each other in the dark. Each knows all the other knows, learned by heart from head to toes.
"What's worse? To die of cold and hunger in the woods, to become an animal that would be killed and eaten by some bigger animal, or to have a nose bleed from time to time?"