Suddenly lost life

Jiangnan women are as gentle as water. In the artistic conception of fishing boat singing night, they fall into a large piece of nothingness image in the daytime and in the old lane located in a corner of the water town, the rain gathered into a soft River across her bright eyes, like a flower, passing away in a hurry in a fleeting time, and the glory hidden in the floating life was touched in his heart leisurely. Different from the gentleness of Jiangnan women and the heroic of Mongolian women, her beauty, freshness and refined, her eyebrows faintly exude men’s British spirit, and her long hair does not add any restrictions, soft into a pool of water swept across his fingertips, in the twilight of the old streets and alleys, it stimulated his once lost heart. He held her hand and called her lightly. Her bright eyes were shining eagerly, and she called him Shi. It seems like an old knowledge, as if it is natural. He loved her shy eyebrows deeply. He described her eyebrows as white light flowing in the blue sky. He deeply loved her hair without ornament. He deeply loved all the natural atmosphere she gave off, like the bright sunlight, like the fresh warmth of the misty drizzle in the south of the April river. The Dawn was vast, the afternoon was quiet, the fishing boat was singing late, and the stars were shining. All the light and shadow of natural day and night were visited by them one by one, dotted with deep dreams, they respected each other as guests, they loved the rich life in the south of the Yangtze River deeply. They held hands with each other and lived one cycle after another in the Four Seasons. Every night when stars scattered, she fell on his chest and called him Shi softly, the soft voice was like the silent words in the dream. He was touched by this softness for several times, filling the vast gap in the lost heart. He remembered that his mother was so gentle when he was young, so holding her arms unconsciously tightened, the Heart of Chaos fell into peace. He loved her like that until the cycle of the Four Seasons bleached their sideburns. The Young and frivolous love gradually faded away, and then became more deeply volatile, turning into deep satisfaction, he loved her more, even though her hair was no longer black and her skin was no longer smooth, and the sparks from the collision between heart and heart had not decreased. They helped each other to every dusk where twilight was stained, every time she was dyed white by the sky, her heart was still young, still caressing his white hair and calling him Shi. The voice seemed to be old and he was happy with it. If God doesn’t make people so much and the track of time flow is not so smooth, his heart may not be so painful. In a drizzly world, the same day as they first saw. He happily wanted to share a good time with her, but found that the warm body had been cold, like the cold water flowing in the south of the river in April, her lips slightly expanded, the last gentle and soft Shi condensed between the throat. Those bright afternoons of the day before yesterday were bustling. Sometimes he would doubt whether she really existed, but when touching all the beliefs she had built with difficulty, they collapsed. Every night he would unconsciously put his arms around the warm body around him, and only the cold under the soft quilt responded to him. Every Twilight he would habitually touch the man’s hair. The bright red light falling from the burning clouds reflected his lonely hand in the air. His shadow was so dark, it is as dark as being sucked into the huge universe. He would stand in front of her dressing mirror and call her Wang Fu, and would surround her tears. Sometimes he couldn’t help waving a punch in the air and falling into a large dense area while his heart was twisted. The night was boundless, with faint starlight scattered, falling into a large area of memories and sadness woven with no hope, vaguely seen, he saw a cloud of ethereal mist mixed with Starlight parked on the make-up chair she had ever sat on. He saw her eyes clearly, and his clear face reflected his face washed by tears, wang Fu, Wang Fu, he called softly again and again. The man turned around and looked at her. She also looked at him. A few feet away seemed to be a world apart, in the hazy tears, he stretched out his rough hand to her, eager to touch her warm hair like countless images before, but touching it was just vanity. Her Phantom gradually turned into air. He hurried to reach for it, but his tearful face could not reflect her warmth any more. That year, the stars were all over her face. She was still so young. Oh, Wang Fu, you can stay forever in your youth, but I will grow old overnight. He went to her Cemetery, tears burst into tears, and dark clouds covered his head into a huge net. Holding the black stone tablet, he knelt down slowly, lifted his pen and wrote the word King Fu. Ink smudged with tears. He couldn’t see the water marks. All he saw was the face he once attached. Ten years of life and death are boundless, not thinking about it, and I will never forget it. There is nowhere to talk about lonely graves. Even if the meeting should not be recognized, the dust is full of dust, and the temples are like Frost. At night, I had a dream and returned to my hometown. Xiao Xuan window was dressing. There is nothing but tears. It is expected that every year, the intestinal part, the moon night, the short pine. Phoenix mountain spring outing

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