Sitting alone, in the hustle and bustle of the season, watching a curtain of dreams, walking and stopping on the platform, moving to meet again and again, deep or shallow, feel warm, turbulent platform, ups and downs of heart sound, who is the warm fragrance of your heart, the pulse of your brow bottom? In this endless practice of life, I feel and cherish it in my experience. This number in the dark deeply loves a smile on the Sansheng stone. Is the port where I park in this world full of fireworks? You know, that curtain of dreams is exactly what my heart belongs to! Sitting in the summer breeze, a little murmur goes through Chen Zang's ear, arousing Chen Zang's heart talk. The thoughts spread out a thick miss. A vow contract, in the warm world of mortals, the wings turn into the lips of butterfly love, gently shaking the cicada wings of the dream, the curtain of dreams, swaying the posture, dancing with endless obsession, like dragonfly skimming the water, gently drawing the heart, freehand writing the wind and flowers in the water In the fleeting years of the snow moon, your pulse is blooming and you have a quiet aftertaste Summer rain, come suddenly, walk in a hurry, like a sudden mood, rolling thoughts, thousands of threads, but I don't know how to comb, go to the rain walk, hold up an umbrella, walk in the rain, ticking sound, like the mood at the moment, deep and shallow footsteps, step on the slippery road, shoes wet a little, shoes wet can be changed, that heart What about the shoes? The front rose just opened, then wet the pistil, a florescence, somehow to arrange, then their own? This dream has been done for too long. I wonder if I can wait until the rain breaks and the sky is clear. Do you know what this belongs to?