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t, the autumn-like eyes, I

  • September 11, 2019

    At this moment, sitting alone in front of the window, watching the snow fluttering, listening to the years. Send you this round of paper cuts in the moon, the little moonlight, collect them properly, let them sleep quietly, sleep in your heart. Waiting for the windy days, gently wake up, accompany me to laugh at the flowers and cut a paper moon, stick it on your window, telling a miss. The long thoughts are hidden in the cold wind of the winter night, and this thought is like a full of squatting ponds, which are unstoppable. Missing, spread into pieces in front of your window Snow flowers, flying in your eyes, the flashing and shining figure is telling you the traces and expectations of you. The snow that dances with the wind, like my thoughts, pours down, for you, dancing and hurting. Falling thoughts Newport 100S, covered with the roadside under your feet, wrapped the earth in silver Wholesale Cigarettes, let the earth scorn my thoughts, let the thoughts in front of your eyes, turn a drop of water, flow into the most lingering movement scissors A paper moon, posted on your window, telling a piece of heart. When I think about you over and over again, I will call your name over and over again, picking up the roads that have been there, bit by bit of happiness, like dreams. All the days that have passed together, between you and me, are nets that others cannot penetrate. Therefore, I always like to quietly and quietly miss you. When I miss you, my heartbeat and your footsteps, in this winter, shake into the heart of the snow, flying in front of your window, tangled, light and shallow, telling you the bitter cold river. I don't know how long I will use to repay your affectionate gaze, beautiful and desolate heart, broken my heart. Cut a paper moon and stick it on your window, telling a sadness. The night of the snow falling, the seven colors of light, I seem to see, on the white stone steps, stepping on the white clouds, gently holding your hand, a warm, filled heart. Snowflakes, soaked in tears, flashing magnificent phantoms, floating in love, love, chaotic knots, singing in the night wind. Hand in hand, through the road of this life, I can only use words, use the fingertips to weave the hopeless red dust, embroidered, resentment and jealousy. Cut a paper moon and stick it on your window for a good collection. The snow of the sky disturbed my peace of mind. I saw a heart, lingering on the red dust, quiet and serene, like a blossoming snowflake, weaving a warm picture for you. On the day I first met, the autumn-like eyes, I used the tenderness of my life to smear the dust falling on your white clothes. Recalling the past in the streamer stream, I slowly learned the silence, learned to be strong, let the pain, accompanied by the mournful notes of the ear, quietly rising, slowly falling, close to the window sill, choose silence, no longer can See my tearful eyes. Cut a paper moon, please cherish it, because I don't want to see you stepping in the footsteps, use your blurred eyes, decorate my baggage tonight, in front of the window of the snowflake, I stand into a Buddha Look, in the depths of the long red dust, cut a paper moon, give you
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