Of winter sun rare and full of teaching building steps, those standing proudly in the post of chrysanthemum of great duo in full bloom, the girls around the post in milk white, said those happy in the boudoir words, on the ground mirrors the pieces of projection.
We walked through the long corridor, in the warm push-pull window to stop. Put out his hands to the sunlight, hold a heart, I saw the light, that I, go on your way, do not know its taste.
You don’t know me to love has many be careful, fear, touch broken crystals do innocence.
When I see too many things, I shouldn’t understand recklessly say I love you, because is the one who told me, that’s the beauty of without cash.
Sunshine flowers in the downstairs strange, beautiful story spin in the nest and spin in too long, can’t find direction, in this morning, a rare flowers tale. The back of the attic is always seems to completely overshadowed by day, those involved in the signal of the day tower on wire cut into several triangle, lowered on the side of plastic bags in the morning in the house, the tree leaves flying with the season’s indicates the grief.
The heart of grey rabbit warm hand who is the time, with black line changed its three disc mouth, is so sad, rather than looking at some also don’t divide pain. But, now that grief might as well rupture. When I heard the song in the winter grew up. If melody can fly, please let me take a, go back to the road to see.
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