I don't give up my fingertips, my soul is trembling slightly. Who is who, who is who, who is guarding, the oath is still warm, and the feelings have gradually drifted away. It takes only a moment to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.
If feelings can be backed up, they will always be as good as the first time. Feelings are weak and hurt. They are all the closest people. They walked by smiling. They used to have each other. Remember that feelings are true, feelings can be near or far, feelings are close to wounds, feelings are far away, and people are weak. Scale is measured by heart. Where is the right location? I am hesitant, afraid to leave, afraid of wounds, afraid of fading, afraid of fear.
I really want to turn into a wing and fly over the end of time to see how many feelings persist until the end of time. Time is not old, and the true feelings are not scattered. Sitting at the intersection of years, how many times I am not old, my feelings are scattered, and how many clothes are stained with tears. Who doesn't cherish, or doesn't cherish enough, interprets love into a sad fairy tale.
Who ever painted a picture with a painting brush, bound perfection into the most romantic spring, met the most beautiful spring, wanted to hold the tail of spring, never abandoned the spring, the time was not old, love was far away, looking back, the oath was still shimmering, with a lingering warmth, and my heart was lost in an empty alley, which was hard to cherish and find.
Leaning against the door of the years, rubbing your thoughts in the wind, waiting for your face to become soft, find a warm fragrance to follow, light and elegant, stretching your pleated notes, still with vague warmth. If life is just like the first time, your feeling is not far away, and you will cherish it at your warm fingertips.
Love walks in the end of the world, and love is gentle in poetry. If you have never met it, it will give you the tenderness of your fingertips, which has something to do with words, not romance. Between the lines, it is a heart-to-heart dialogue. Talk to the four seasons, keep loneliness, keep warmth, care about charm, read the past, look for love, press your heart soft, stay in the deepest part of time carefully, cherish fragrance and get drunk alone.
Knock on the door of love and open the dusty heart. In the rhyme of a poem, the spring breeze blows with the pen and ink of the mood, and a little ink is sprinkled on an ordinary piece of paper. The dancing words burst into charming smiles, and feelings sprouted between the lines, such as the tender grass in spring and the new green picture scroll.
Romantic feelings are bathed in sunshine and rain, and the dusty heart is clear and pure. Fate is to cherish each other and rely on each other. When the corners of my mouth rise, I don't say cherish forever. I followed my heart, met with warmth, wholeheartedly, wholeheartedly, until the end of time. Love has no reason, it is random, casual and casual …
Gentle and graceful fingertips, a sleeve with a variety of amorous feelings, a faint heart sound, a string, passing years, euphemistic poetry, slender fingers, colorful and poetic romantic feelings, flowers, butterfly dancing sleeves, embracing, is an acre of love, beautiful and dependent.
Fingertips stay in the picture of poetry, gently sprinkle romantic words, butterfly love faint love, gently pull up a sleeve cloud. A love, a reason, a love, a fate, love and love stay, fate and fate are together, love is gentle at the fingertips, love is charming in butterfly sleeves, and a dream sleeve cloud deducts the ripples of love.
The tenderness of a finger, the warm years, touches the softness of missing, opens the dusty heart, gives love to the fingertips, touches the warmth from the fingertips, and touches the heart of missing.
Author: the beauty of meeting