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Spreading the palm

in Eure Homepages 23.08.2019 09:58
von ylq | 67 Beiträge

Spreading the palm of my memory, I can't pick up the clear water of the past. Such innocent grasses and shores, brooks and sakura, birds sing a reed. It is difficult to weave a beautiful fairy tale of Snow White Forest Adventure-----the inscription does not need to cover this memory door. Because I understand that even if the door is deep, the memory of the heart of the lake has stopped the ripples. I know that these old things will only stain a layer of green. Hiding in the heart of the word, from time to time, there is a kind of material that stretches and silences. Such as the Egret passing over the waves, while the fine waves are shallow, it is clear that there has been a potential turmoil, and the crevices of the wind and the traversing of the time have swayed and whispered to you. Although it is such a long time, there is no ignorance of the city at dusk. But half a small window, green, who is dreaming, half awakening between thousands of quests, the sing of the stream, quietly wakes up the pure dream of the daisy half open under the moon. Unplugging the clouds of the season, I can't find it anymore, and the gentle, clear eyes on the branches condense. And I am still alone in the window to watch the sunset. Look at the wind and shake the bamboo shadow to the wall, listen to the rhythm of the flow of the year in the dust. The blue of memory, looking back is still the end of the wonderful. Walking through the sky of the past, too much blurred light, graceful and graceful. Silky soft and cool. Suddenly, it is so meaningful, such as a daughter's daughter, red, long-lasting. Another example is the vegetable curtain that falls in the deep courtyard and is faintly blurred. That year, that courtyard, who is that? In the small garden, the butterfly is lightly swayed, and after the screen, the strings are pointed. It��s almost a light year, far away. Separated by a curtain, the time is acacia, and the time is away from the hustle and bustle, exudes the coolness of the prime. The vicissitudes of the sleeves, the dyed a period of spring and summer in the cardamom. Although it is soft and fragrant, it is still popular with Yuqin, a blame and a sigh, a red swing. Looking back today, the small circle is heavy, the old scenery is still, childhood, and the sun and the moon. Now, under the sun, there is no longer any green plum sniffing. Holding the white space of the past, still filled with the pure breath of green, and there is a warmth and warmth. Open the old essay, Lancome flower, a grain of clear heart and euphemism, revealing a thin and cool Newport Cigarettes Coupons. The palm touches it, it is the coolness and chill of the time passing through the fingers. Reluctant years, old agarwood, a touch of love. It��s just that the wind can��t be returned again. It��s a scent of a sultry scent, a seductive cyan. The willows on the moon, deep in the mountains. Vaguely at that time, the juvenile, at that time, the bagpipes were idle, and the pictures of the white geese in the sky and white clouds spread the palm of memory. I could not pick up the clear water of the past. Such innocent grasses and shores, brooks and sakura, birds sing a reed. It is difficult to weave a beautiful fairy tale of Snow White Forest Adventure. Lan Yun Shuxiang, exquisite and different feelings. When I was a child, the sun and the moon were too slow, but now I just want to tighten the years. Hiding behind the curtain, it is engraved with a minute and a minute. I am afraid that I will turn to Tsinghua. Look at the landscape of this memory, cloud smoke around. A stream of water Parliament Cigarettes, a few birds called, a few flowers bloom. The most unwilling to say that the sea is in the sangtian, but it is still the fireworks in the mirror, and the year of the year goes far to the heart of the memory Newport Cigarettes, vacating a mood, drifting out of the present. Leave a curtain of mourning, as well as the softness and heartache of the thoughts. I know that the old sunshine has come out of the green. That kind of pure and clear, with the eyes of the clear fish and the moon, watching the time is far away
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