I will keep this secret from anyone, and you will agree with me.
In the end, go to the old place, quit the track a little, run across the wilderness, mix the harvest, and hold your breath a little, but the oath is not a lie. Fairy tales are not fake.
When it's dark, secretly, slowly buckle the heart lock, the path, pick lilies, slowly let go of your heart, and the solo is noisy. Weird and warm.
At twelve o'clock, the wind is weak, as gentle as touching the skin.
An angle can hold up the most beautiful smile.
A person's room, a kind of color endorsement, exudes a lonely atmosphere,