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eam, the thought drifts

前の投稿 - 次の投稿 | 親投稿 - 子投稿なし | 投稿日時 2019-9-3 11:24
ylq  半人前   投稿数: 35
A heavy snow that has been swaying has always been unintentionally smashed through the window from the beginning of a snow fluttering. Snow has come unexpectedly. Heaven and Earth became a grand stage, and Snowflakes performed a lifelong dance with its most beautiful posture, and then melted into the eternal warmth of the fingertips. In the snow scene, the sun, the moon and the river are silent Marlboro Gold, the Yushu Qiongzhi powder makeup jade, and the independent breath listening, the snow seems to be clear into the ear. I suddenly thought of Zhang Mudi, who is called "classical boy". She said, "I can hear the sound of snow / the sound of the spring silkworm feeding on the leaves / the sound of long hair being smashed by the wind / the sound of the forest slang / Such as the thin winter squeaking voice, I read her poem when I was 12 years old, now I am 16 years old, I finally feel that she is embarrassed by the people of the "clean feelings of a snow falling on my shoulders With the body temperature of winter, heading for the beginning of another cycle. A beam of sunlight breaks through the clouds, and the boundless white reflects the dazzling brilliance, and my eyes are suddenly bright. Suddenly there is an impulse in my heart, I really want to embrace the snow. I have always been in contact with the snow. I always wondered if I was more hot with the heart of it. The blazing heat is not the swaying candlelight, not the fire in the fireplace, but a kind of ignorance, I never know what it is. The faith can make the delicate flowers fall from a few kilometers high Wholesale Cigarettes, only for a splendid dance, and then fall into the dust. In the ear, the cold wind from Siberia sings a sorrowful song, blowing all the colors The way to go, but to stay in the first glass of white "into the snow inside the heart / green / sudden / suddenly think of a word / snow is the spring in the headset came from Bandari's "Snow" Marlboro Lights, close your eyes and everything is retired into a blank Only the snowfields of the snowfields and the distant villages are soaking, the snowflakes bloom in the sunlight, and the golden light-like light and the butterfly-wings fly gracefully. A white boy is far away, I can't see his appearance, I can't see his gaze, I can only hear the flute in his hand. The sound of the flute is the flow of the river under the ice. It is the sporadic green that is accidentally drilled under the snow. It is the shallow sing of the woods on the old hills. It is the last flower in the sun in the winter. Lazy and stretched. There was a sky behind him, his flute fluttering in the wind, falling on the branches, in the sun, in the heart of the snow. Suddenly I saw the sudden green, and the running sun. Time has also stopped breathing, and all this has become an eternal rise, against the light, snow flutters. The world has recovered everything, and I am still standing in the snow. It seems to be a dream, the thought drifts with the snow, drifting far into the depths of the heart, seeing a grand snow dance, knowing a clear boy, listening to a song called "Snow" Falling on me, green sprouts in the white.
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