Palermo boulder was baked into muffins by kissing. I tried to bake you like this, but you grew into a cactus like a green jungle and tried to stop it. I stretch out my hand to you, and the burrs on your fruit are all over my fingers.
As long as you have pity on me once, cactus cactus, since your fruit is not red because of me, why do you stand in my way with a smile?