Count the time, take you as your mind

Summer is really coming. Flowers are purplish and red, bees are flying butterflies, and door leaf of summer is opened. Green water and green mountains bypass spring, and the money comes to summer. As a result, Xia’s words suddenly jumped into the eye. The taste of Xia was in a hurry, and it was contaminated on the paper one after another, filled with Xia’s chapters everywhere. Sunny down, I began to shake off the past hidden in the dark corner one by one, put it in the sunshine, sort out the old time warmly, think about your counting time, think about you, shake off, shaking down, the whole mood is like summer breeze, sometimes cool, sometimes stuffy, feeling like you are near, right hand is time, left hand is you, so quietly, in the dictionary full of words, read the plot of the story. Alienated from the blooming flowers of this season, the Begonia in front of us and the dazzling red, but it looks like the withered rose petals. This kind of blooming, gambol, and the atmosphere at this moment, so bad, very bad! If the flowers bloom, it is yesterday, then today’s opening is so stingy. Behind the smoke wave, it is the helplessness of withering. If the happy face brings too much weight to the years, why should we stick to the bright colors and yearn for a full moon. There are too many rugged lives, with a variety of flavors in mind. They get together and separate, come and go, stay in a cold season of flowers, and the stars in the sky are thin and cool! I know for myself that not all flowers bloom and fragrance will be preserved; Not all winds will leave marks; Not all encounters will have results. Combing the corners of time, the broken celadon, splicing the pieces, like folding pages, how to do it, there are traces of the road, how to write, can’t get out of that besieged city. A circle, surrounded by a center, goes round and round, the evening drum, the morning clock, the cold and summer alternate, the fate is all you, counting the time, always thinking of you! Slowly twisting a wisp of darkstory, let the missing rub into it. The cool pen stick hardened the strokes on the paper and always wanted to draw the next sentence to be successful in this season, but it ended in a hurry, the ink is not dry, the mind is cool, and there is no way to fall. The Timbo outside are intertwined, unable to figure out the source, but they grow luxuriantly for no one. However, those red blossoms and green willows are particularly dazzling, swaying one window after another, it is impossible to predict the wind and rain of tomorrow, who will be beaten by the flower window. If Flowers Bloom is a kind of beautiful mood, then flowers fall is a kind of quiet mood. In any case, the faint and rich thoughts, together with the scattered petals of rain, the sound of landing and the sound of knocking on the meeting brass bell. After a burst of falling fragrance, it filled the endless night, feeling lost, standing alone, hanging together, the figure gathered in the dim light, mixed in the lovesickness of roses, counting the time and thinking about you. Turn around for a moment, time flies, summer flowers of a season, and the bright appearance of another window. When looking back, it is already embarrassing. Who can crape myrtle? Who can be red for a hundred days? Looking through the calendar, I recorded the wishful thinking as thoughts. In every moment, I copied everything. The past things were always blurred. The deep feeling in my eyes was thin and cool again and again. Still unwilling to give up the original intention, unwilling to leave the warm old thoughts for a long time, just let every rain, incisively and vividly, every piece of wind and sand swept away, and only these things were done, only these walked at the end of May again, too many snow months, not combed yet; Too many wind flowers, not smeared yet, were already too cold and thin. I just want to, the thought of wrapping too much onion and glory, blooming more beautiful and more beautiful every time in the years, Xu Yucheng met and rooted in his heart. Even if you cross thousands of years, you can recognize it at a glance. I was in the water of the small bridge, embroidered flowers full of clothes, repaired the mood, only waiting for the end of the story, to give a complete. Waiting, waiting, counting the time, taking you as your thoughts, counting white clouds one by one, clouds, when the flowers are clear and the moon is bright, stepping on the thoughts of fresh wind and clouds, planting in memory, when you can park at night on Fengqiao, you can rely on something, have something to rely on, no longer drift, no longer leave home, can you agree? Quietly, how many years have passed, countless blue threads scattered on the shoulders, accumulated into a ladder, and dyed on the peach blossom ferry step by step. I made a graceful appointment and touched the time between my fingers. Knock on purple Mo, cut out the feelings, counted the time, and thought about it. It was more than blossom in the field degrees. Under the LOVESICKNESS TREE of the opening, I was scattered into dust, and the dark fragrance bypassed the place where you passed, wait for time to live in, wait for meeting to live in! Wenluo Mei snow dance QQ1697814860

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