Listening to the wind

Listen, every windy night is the song of Qing Dynasty I wait for you. There is no gorgeous dictionary or flourishing face, but sadness and long love can make every cold night thinking about you silent, dark fragrance, not sad or happy. Listen, every word in the wind is like the lovesickness I embedded for you on the plain silk. The icy and cold words are the marks left by the retreat of heat after every inch of missing is branded. It doesn’t hurt, but it is enough to make people cold in the cold night. I don’t know when it has become a habit to miss someone. However, this kind of miss is more a memorial or a memorial. Think of a person who hurried to an appointment but said goodbye. People say that it takes only a second to fall in love with someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone. Maybe, longer. The wind falls with flowers, which is also a box of love, and your turn without saying goodbye is like the wind, clear and cold. I like you, like your confession, like your love at first sight, like your silly confession like in idol drama, like you looking for me in the crowd, afraid of losing my eyes, like the warmth of your palm, I like the path side by side with you, every corner with you, and many things about you, so even your cruel decision can remind me of it so far. Your words, stop in the wind, stop in your distant back, stop in my eyes wet by raindrops, stop at the corner where you disappear, stop in the morning of falling rain, stop in the love you didn’t say goodbye. The wind is coming, the flowers are falling, the flowers are accompanied by the wind, gently caring for the landing, so that the fragrance can be kept full of the path, embellishing the time. You, also like the wind, but you don’t follow your heart. If you don’t pay attention to it, you just go there. It’s cold and clear, leaving only a cold night and a broken flower. The Lost Love is doomed to be stranded in the middle of the road, let the wind blow, let the rain hit, let the time recede all the heat, let the dust cover all the sadness and happiness. Without you, without us, only me. If you see or don’t see me, I will be there, not sad or happy. If you read, or don’t read me, love is there, don’t come or not. If you love or don’t love me, love is there. If you think about someone without increasing or decreasing, you don’t have to let that person know that it is like the wind. If he can feel it, it will be my luck. If you don’t know, it’s not my misfortune. It’s just a meeting with deep love. When you come, you will cherish it. When you go, you will put it down. If you can’t forget it, you don’t want to force yourself to live with each other safely. Although the wind does not have any temperature, because I have met someone and fell in love with someone, even listening to the roar of the wind can hear the continuous love words. Every time the wind comes, it always reminds me of you, your voice, your temperature, the heartbeat of love at first sight and the joy of snuggling. The wind will pass through my windowsill as promised every day to greet my mood, and the wind-like you, I know, have been far away from me, it’s so far that I can’t find a suitable reason to ask you hello. I think that the person who can hear the story from the wind must be a person with a story, and this story must be useful for people or things that are hard to forget for a lifetime. It’s not that I don’t want to forget, it’s already in my heart, and I can’t forget it at all. I think there must be a person who can experience this feeling. Although with the flow of time, the pain of the once flame has already faded away, there must be the shadow of that person and the past between you and him in a corner of life. In that story, you, him and you. Listening to the sound of the wind is so familiar but strange that it can make people warm and hurt people’s hearts. May in a certain season of Falling Flowers, at dusk of rainmov, smoke bursts, watching geese return, Yingfei jungle, Butterfly Dance flower room, mandarin ducks playing in the water, double, Yi people stand in front of the door, waiting for the people who want to read, coarse tea and light rice, but do not admire the fairy. It’s good to have you. There is no car BMW, no purple clothes gold hairpin, you have your ears and legs, you have a long love, you have surpassed all the beauty in the world. The wind, like a song of lovesickness, the words are sentimental, and the sound is like a lawsuit. It rings every morning when you think about you, and every cold night when you think about you, it is fragrant and not sad or happy. If time could go backwards, would you say that goodbye? Write an ending for the story between us. Even if this ending is a pity, it is a pity. I would rather hear the goodbye before you turn around. You didn’t say that the ending you wrote will be endless later. The wind did not stop, the missing did not stop, the string of silk, tapping the cut time and the past, commemorating every heartbeat and every inch of eyes. Those Hearts lost in the sea of people drifted alone at one end of the city, waiting for the day when they were picked up again. Those wandering love, like falling flowers, are waiting for the reunion with the wind. Even if they know it will turn into mud, they will not hesitate to find a enamored love in the red dust. When the wind comes, listening to the wind, you always don’t mind coming and going like this. I hope we can have the love like wind and falling flowers, snuggle quietly, keep the current year together, and outline our four seasons. Phoenix mountain spring outing

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