Modern Poetry-No First Love

I wore a black sweater upstairs that day.

He turned around when our eyes met.

Our souls have sparks, and we have a secret relationship with each other.

We exchanged courtesy, and my bright smile touched his heart again.

His concern is like a cup of hot milk.

I admire his charm and accomplishment. I secretly squatted by the door, listening to the sound of him taking a bath.

That's the little girl's hidden thoughts. That is the ripple of the seed of love.

He is really beautiful, like a fairy coming out of a painting, warming me and embracing my soul all winter.

The first love is always in hindsight, so I left in a hurry to say that I love him.

I only remember the kiss printed on my cheek when I left, and the warm breath on his body is unforgettable.

The years are gone forever.

I have crossed Qianshan to find his old place, but I am gone.

Without him, the city can only be an empty city and an ice city.

And I just missed the most innocent years and the best love when I was 16 years old.