Back to back heating
Executive glass of wine, guarding the old broken-year-old in the residual time, owned a ukulele, any light shed snow soft shadow. Lan Shan drunk the night, lonely and frivolous, light snow itself a dream, who chant; life if the dream, isolated from wandering, Xuemei did not embrace, hate only fresh westerly wind.
Concentration of deep winter, the night a candlelight ink micro-light, swaying, the smell of ice Cui Xiang, Lin Chuang lazy Italian, black mark on the poetry tired, carrying a bit of elegant, with a dash of Resentment over.
Sigh, time gap Baiju shuttle as too old and over to do, Looking back look, wood pulp Yuandu, smoke deep boat stand. Bana open, wading barefoot piano to hold the water film shaking, no boat no pulp, magic water on the central stand. Who in the depths of Qinghuan dream? Thin yarn, soft as clouds.
You said; right?
I have not the first language tears flow.
Meditation, the warm temperature of the palm over the forehead, delicate moving inch by inch, the whole teeth gentle heart is thy joined in the palm, the most pity glass heart, staring at the lamp, compared with two-tire look, there is the cloud of pity and pain through However, the Red broken video was cut, Fallen flowers blossoming.
Ying hold a cup of tea warm, thin materials, cups Film Magic, see you thin pour, stir, and then filled, remove that packet of jelly and put on full of thoughtful, deep melting fragrance, a cup of fragrant tea fluttering in the cold winter night to force the bone and warm the ice into the heart of a hardship.
You said; the winter cold are integrated into all of the tea, not cold in winter, and you are muggy Hong fluttering of my soul. Midnight surplus with both hands in my palm grip you, read your gentle and fragrant, elegant and delicate. Thus, when the west window on the cage, into the peach Shining Yan Yan's your word, a window of mind at your fingertips and fell under the magic emanation magic emanation, waved in the wind.
You are never clear, midnight writing, down to the ground in the heart of incense into the War, guarding the heart silent more than a little micro-Spring, as we warm back to back, a little cool, much less in the long muggy days that Wataru strand past.
Mind a piece of paper, different Melancholy, remember that shade-Tau oath juniors. Acacia heart except you and me, who can understand the worry tempting midnight and pain?
Thus, in every night of insomnia was removed, the hold of the shoulders, by the window on a ray of light worry tap the window, white Su Jian, the glow boring long sigh. Xu falling snow outside the window, Prunus point red, feelings gently singing daughter, string action falling Italy, Red thick, longitudinal tear Qingchou my veil, cut open ice of winter, so that all our stories are Nianman laughing eye and a flower open, Lingling midnight, but also magic emanation out of the water intended Xueying as PCCW.
Old age with a curtain hanging branches prime shadow burnout, long boring season Qingchou night away, but, over the Jinxi, but also a new year, however, a heavy melancholy heart of the Nama, has been reluctant to steps taken, immersed in the darkness, watching the flow a little bit of time away, you say; behind the dormant winter spring, as long as we are now happy! If you are happy, my happiness, we can not afford to shoulder the double thin long years, arrived, but the fate of Unfortunate life more difficult. Although we only hug back to back, a little warm enough, the shoulder is very weak, just stop when you are tired to give you the fulcrum to be sufficient.
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