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Whose voice, blowing a quiet water marriage. Who is the prime, and outlines the half-baked encounters Marlboro Cigarettes. Whose thoughts are on the side of the broken bridge, and sprinkle ten miles of peach blossoms to make a red carpet. A few acacia red and thin, a few broken strings twisted hands of those memories of the year, like the changing face of spring, sometimes telling the gentleness of the time, and sometimes cut the red line of the dream. A few degrees of flowering, the blink of an eye is a human being, still can not forget the past. Let the rain wet this past event, give it a hint of spring, romantic, do not leave, do not say anything. Let the fragrance of the falling flowers, faintly filled in the bottom of my heart, sacrifice a red meet. I am no longer remembering this evening. In the past, when the dust was in the water, it was no longer possible to return to the tranquility of the lotus flower, the poems and praises, and the words were distorted. The weak and weak body drifts with the wind, and the silence sinks. Just for the traction of my thoughts, I fell into the eyes of your focus. Thinking of that obsessive look, a thousand words, are in that touch of tenderness. Since then, the breeze and the moon, the bamboo shadow flying flowers, I am willing to do that colorful lotus. Only indulge in the tenderness of the affectionate veins, dreams of flying flowers, dreams of cinnabar suddenly fainted in the eyebrows, perhaps lost too much, with a warning, learned to dodge! Going to stay in Qingshan is both casual, and there is no need to ask for both. This is a light one, why should I keep the little whiskers. I don��t like it, I don��t feel sad, I won��t drop a tear for someone. If you leave, you don't have to say goodbye. I only have to rush through a gust of wind. It is not the end, it is just passing by. And I have been there, although the scenery is as old as it is not beautiful, I will not leave. Just don't turn around again, the silence is facing the sky is already bright, the wind is clouded, the cool wind is passing through the fingers, and instantly passed to the heart, like a micro-frost, so that the heart is not cold, a little pain. The passing of those broken thoughts suddenly came to mind, like a piece of withered petals, floating in the air, falling on the face, causing a line of tears of crystal. At that time, the light swept across the eyebrows, and I felt that I was sighing at the ruthlessness of the years, and how many times I sighed and sighed. Like, one person, one tea, quiet listening to sad music, quietly writing his own thoughts, miss the goodness of a short-lived. Although lonely, it is also substantial. Although not happy, it is not so sad. Because there is no expectation, there will be no disappointment and despair. Even if it is a bit deserted, in a person's world, with the words, the pen and ink, is also a unique style. The once violent sorrows of the sea, the colors have faded. For a long time, it can only be a mythical story in a dream. Only midnight dreams back, illuminating the osmanthus tree under the moonlight. I recalled the romance of the August sweet-scented osmanthus that I had promised. It is a dream, a light and shadow that has been broken, and you will collect the wreckage of the moonlight in the afterlife, and I will promise you a good moon. The encounter between life, always hate late, meet, but has lost the qualification to own. It is also because of the beauty of the broken, will not forget. When everything is pale and speechless, I really want to ask the Buddha. Since I have met, why not allow me to depend on each other. Since I am in love, why did you miss this life! If I look at the red, I can only be heartbroken. The wreckage of the flowers in that place will be deeply buried, and it will never be able to return to the first sight. The heart is like a rain, and how to run, still can not chase the lingering people in the dream, she said that she is a crystal, is the incarnation of the jade, is a princess, is a queen, in fact, nothing. She is just an ordinary woman, knocking on the preface of love with her thin fingers, writing a piece of paper with her soul, and forgetting the poems of the sea. Because life is incomplete, it can only be done in illusion. There are thousands of places in the world, and there is only a trace of sand between the fingers. Ping Juping scattered, has entered the country like Zen, and heard the morning bells and drums hitting the heartstrings in the open air. The blue smoke of the rosewood has opened the curtain of reincarnation. I wrote a preface for it with a thin pen. Everything is dying, illusory, like a dream, a little dissipated invisible Marlboro Gold, returning to the origin. The courage of Spirited Away has gone through the ruthlessness of the years, grinding away the blade and turning it into a eternal silence. This shore, the other side, there is no time. The traces of the choice to lose to the stranger are still clear. If you can rely on each other, I would rather break the wings for you. If you can make a promise, I would rather give up the bustling and confusing. If this life is deep, I would rather wait for you to come together. If the reincarnation can meet, I would rather break the Meng Po soup bowl and don't forget you. If I can come back, I am willing to return to the origin of the encounter and then turn around. Will not let you see the tears and rain like beads, rolling marks. I will remember your appearance with heart and portray it in the eternal memory. In the broken thoughts of the red dust, the clear sky that keeps watching you is silent, silent! Even if you are in the mountains and rivers, you will still find your breath, write down the preface of love for you Marlboro Lights, and let the romance of the poems linger in the purple Newport 100S. Ren missed the madness and opened the love of the mountains. Even if Acacia breaks the bank, it will not disturb your actual distance. Somehow, the inexplicable will be very sad, tears will roll down. Just don't say anything, let it flow. Maybe it��s been alone for too long, I always think about something weird. If there is an afterlife, I can choose what kind of person I want to be. Still be a woman, be a beautiful, delicate woman. It��s as light as water, it��s quiet, it��s very elegant. In the afterlife, only the dance and the ink, the piano and calligraphy. This is my favorite, and then I will swim in the mountains, write a long scroll, play a mountain stream and meet the sound, and the two sons will be cherished. Cut the word for poetry, Su Lian to make paper, and a volume of Ying Ying Xiao Shi, or hi or worry is not important. Slowly moving away from the shackles of this red dust, there is a feeling that always exists, no matter how noisy the environment, I can let myself hear my heartbeat. I am helpless to escape from reality. Is it a deserter? I don't know. I don't want to face the complicated Marlboro Red, simple and simple, a porridge and a meal, plain and faint, do not want to destroy the existing balance, already heart-warming, light wind. It seems that everything is no longer important to me. I am not expecting life, and I am not asking for anything. Like this smoky blue smoke, boiling in the air, and then faintly dissipated in the invisible heart, is a cold city, a crystal clear glacier. There are no loud noises and no signs of life. Silent, as quiet as a ghost. Only the center of the glacier, driving a snow lotus. That is my crystal heart, there is a tear in the core, called the heartbreaking and floating, watching the flowers fall, the love word is over. If you ask who is a Buddha, the word is ��. Drunken and laughed for three thousand games, and the ink dyed the soul. Why do you have to be too persistent, this is empty. Needless to say, turning back is not yesterday. Yesterday, the road of love, the current river. Do not ask right or wrong, the heart word is a lock. Crystal exquisite, carmine is a curse. Before Yanzitang passed, cut and cut. I took the Yunshui Road and broke the red dust fire. Love is a step by step, love fire and ecstasy. In the dream, you can get people, and you will live alone in the moon.
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