In June, you turn over a flap of your heart, slowly pack and seal it, and then carefully pack it. Choose a crimson one and insert it into an eggplant-shaped bottle.
You're the crazy girl next door, right? Other people's gorgeous makeup has been removed, and you think of dressing yourself. The branches of the plum and the leaves of the willow are neither arrogant nor feminine. Pink plum white did not move you, but fiery red made you young and restless.
Who is the dancing teenager who stirred your spring heart? In June, you turn over a flap of your heart, slowly pack and seal it, and then carefully pack it. Choose a crimson one and insert it into an eggplant-shaped bottle. Thus, there were flames, jumping and rising, spewing out, scorching and bright.
In August, round lanterns are full of branches, and you still smell the astringent plums. Peeling off the smooth shell, the reddish grains were visible. Take one pill and put it in your mouth, still sour and left your teeth, like chewing an ignorant first love.
Then it is yellowish and has a taste of not knowing sorrow. In the Mid-Autumn Festival, the round fruit begins to appear angular. The reddish skin is longing, the fading red is ripe, and the deep red is warm.
In October, you finally grew up. Yellow with red, half yellow and half red, full of joy or worry. The pomegranate seeds are faintly pink, like you blushing shyly. You cover your mouth and snicker, but you accidentally break your belly and shake off a seed like an agate. Re-entrance, sweet and sour, full of warm aftertaste. Drunk days, more beautiful sweetheart.