Is my kiss left on your lips

Tonight, the Moonlight is very beautiful and quiet. I took the lonely train and walked slowly. There was no noise or scenery along the way, only those lingering feelings. Unconsciously, when you walk to the station where time turns yellow, do you still leave that wet kiss on your lips? Can you remember the old picture in the wind? Is it still reappearing in the rain? The lingering in the Moonlight overlapped the shadow of two people, gentle as water, and the heart was fragrant. At the moment of deep embrace, I felt the dream-like flame, the wind and flowers, the snow and the moon flooded, and the clouds and rain were lingering. When all romance goes away quietly, the eternal picture still reappears in my mind. A deep encounter in the heart, such as the blooming flower season in spring, listening to the breath of heart and heart. Use the loneliest time to create the best self. There is a story in the sky of memory in those light past, and a theme is always repeated in a corner deep in the heart. Pick up the fragrant years. While we look up at the time, I look back with my affectionate eyes. I will never forget my original heart. Those memories that have never gone far, in every moonlit and starry night, in the morning when the Twilight knocks on the window, the feeling of missing will appear in the bottom of my heart, that Qingyour quiet Avenue, the blue beach, the fragrant Hanada, the night of listening to the wind under the moon, as if your figure was always by my side, your voice, I have been circling around my ears to extract a frame of sweet memories, rubbing it into the wind, moving in the spring blossoms, and meeting again in a fireworks feast, as if the warmth of the end of the world was at hand, the first kiss of the enamored was flowing on the fiery lips. The memories of the past few years were gently formed into a line of fragrant poems, spreading a gust of wind in the wind and rain, A rain, inadvertently, will always touch my mood, drifting in the past of time, can always involve my memory. The distance of love, sometimes very close, can feel each other’s breath. Sometimes it is far away, just like the bottom of a Yi Li. Blurry memories, you can still see the color of missing, just like the stream flowing in the years, time will remember the traces that have been there. In the quiet moonlight, the Nightingale perched on the Willow Bank and several fragrant petals danced and whirled gently. The honey language in the Moonlight is no longer the theme in time. When you find that time is becoming more and more shallow, and your mood will be dark and light, which blames the hot feelings and deep the unspeakable fetters. If there is no night of missing, how can a line of words be written from thin to plump; If there is no mind, how can it wait from a round of Moon shortage to the full moon. Perhaps, the vicissitudes of life are too heavy, we have no time to think about it, and it is nothing but human beings; The corridor of time is too far-reaching, we have no time to read, and we have quietly gone far. Maybe, it is time in a hurry, maybe, it is life that is short, how can we not have the regret of deep love? When the breeze goes late, along the reappearance of a wind and a rain, there will be no more waves of ebb and flow in my heart. Looking at the scenery of the years, a person always thinks why the rainbow after rain can decorate the sky; Why the fallen leaves in late autumn drift alone; Why the stars at midnight light up the night sky; why do fragrant words travel under the moon. Perhaps, how to give time, just put the mood into it, the heart has Qingning, change is not surprised, is the most beautiful elegance and calm. As the years of poetry have gone far, let the flying heart slowly settle down. I don’t know when it will start. I am used to listening attentively to a rainy season in the accumulated words, and I am used to thinking about my heart, use half a roll of darkstory to draw a Lip. If there is a wind, when you see petals falling in the sky, that is the tidbit I miss. In a long story, the poetry of silence appears. The fleeting time, the morning mist and the evening rain, those dyed white stories have been buried in the corridor of time. When you are erased from the depths of your memory over and over again, you can’t help thinking of you from your thoughts again and again, those light days, those lingering pictures in your heart, in a quiet night, recall the beautiful past alone. There are always some regrets in the world, which have become the forever of time. Looking forward to the past, those stories full of fragrance recalled in every windy night. In a touch of soul-catching kiss, a series with wind and rain was sublimated, in a purple flower soul, the past in the years was annihilated. Many years later, looking back, it was a different mood. Text/listen to heart words QQ1178127788 likes (prose editor: Dimo Cheng hurt) Phoenix mountain spring outing

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