In-depth

Think about which flower you are attracted to, and all your words just stop for it. Imagination is like wine, as the wind gets through, and the reservation of flowers is like thousands of flowers, tearing off the empty head, just to decorate the past years, just for embellishing eyebrows, you can know that those desperate scenes cannot be cherished. A little cold fragrance, or a twinkling cold star? I want to use breath to get close to you, to distinguish your spirit, to distinguish your wishes in this life, I don’t want to call your name lightly, don’t want to use secular trap, you are still you, just like this shy encounter, I just want to stand still; Keep the fragrance of awakening one by one. No one can tell clearly how heavy the love is? It is not like honey, not like the gloomy Moon, not like the flame, feeling to the depth, like a clear song, more and more soft, more and more weak, quiet place can put down the eyebrows, also can comb the wisps of blue silk, stream-like Qingyuan. Conversion over Day and night, lips delicately; Stumbles of the moon and a playing back of a, who rips old wounds, delicatessen, silly touched. Or; Is that the dust accumulated in the previous life? What is the expectation before the Buddha lamp? Lingering and tactfully, it reflects the glory in front of the hall, as well as the boundless entering the threshold, which is silent and endless. There is always so much annoying rain! Walking closely, pouring on the mountains and in front of the window of the stranger, I was searching carefully; Your shadow, which made the thin light whisper again and again, made the dusk drift and sigh, a boat drove away, without leaving a trace, you are nothing more than a folded past. You hide at my fingertips, trembling slightly. Yes, it’s just the moonlight, casually pull out the string, in order to open the unknown atrium. It is so beautiful to be so close to you, no matter the environment or the edge of the dream. I look at you quietly, slowly dressing up, suitable for heavy makeup, the skirt is like March spring light scattered, illuminating my dim forehead, you are not spring flowers, but can be like fireworks, it is easy to capture my deep lock and persistence. Maybe I am just a green leaf, a rough branch and a wrong knot, or a water drop, living deep in your empty courtyard, waving the ethereal life, it was just a pulse of eyes, just a flow of smoke and dust all the way, so you were no longer separated, I didn’t look at each other too much, and there was no other way out. The fate of life was accompanied by the wind. Like flowers, dreams, calmness, wind, rain and haste. Life is like a paper brush, no one can stop all kinds of miscellaneous, no one can bury the scorching heat. We were experiencing a night. Standing behind the night, I clearly felt your bright eyes, smiling and smiling. You avoided fog, a page of sadness and the twists and turns of ravines, I went straight into my dream and messed up a pool of clear waves. Really, I could vaguely smell the dark fragrance floating in the air.

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