An autumn wind
, scattered branches between the hearts. A breeze was drunk, ashamed, and poured out his clothes. Light picking, through the years of falling leaves, trekking, looking for the autumn scenery of Jinse, Qinghong a graceful posture. Drunk, drunk, drunk, chanting autumn. Meditation, autumn silk, chanting a season of lingering, autumn warm, sunset, all the way wind and dust, chaos in the world, wisps of smoke and dust infest the autumn color.
In the light autumn, condensing a foot of light lips, plum fragrant swallow dance, falling leaves blooming. A cavity of aromatic rhymes that stirs the taste of autumn, clear locks, flower faces, twisting tidbits, and opening up dreams for years. Between the eyebrows, like smoke, smile like the moon, frost into the face. The white feathers are stained with the breath of the autumn wind and sprinkle a touch of light incense.
Yan Kai, autumn is full of thoughts, and all good memories are temporarily stored. Stay, sparkle, and remember the autumn picture. Half a pen is clear, deeply immersed in the erosion season, the autumn wind dances, and the brocade feather is written into a season of autumn whispers. Tenderness and strangeness, continuing a chapter that has long been missing expectations. Hope, dust, the first bloom, the quiet night, still pure.
A stroke in the early autumn, a long touch. A season of falling leaves, cutting film segments, light this season of autumn dreams, dancing, that white yarn. Wrapping the cycle of the season, the pulse of the breeze, the face opens the eyebrows. Dust like smoke, light buckle a garden of fragrant scenery, autumn curtains, rising smoke and dust like the same thoughts. Dreams linger, yarn tenderness, and the steps are all the way to the end of the wind and dust.
Across the shore, flowing water, wisps of cooking smoke, lanson fragrance, through the vast dust, the sound of the piano, here chirps. The swaying autumn water demonstrates the tenderness of a flower face. The wind, which murmured a season of dust. The autumn wind has arrived, and the flowers have fallen. Late autumn touch xuanxiang cicada dream, garden court lock eyebrows, cool autumn cold moon, watching the love silk, in the moonlight, stomping, stop.
Reminisce, look back. Over the years, autumn falls on a dream of the city, lightly wrapped in sari. Open a season of smoke and rain autumn festival, meditate on the dawn, dust, dreams come true. Reincarnation for a thousand years, the smoke and dust woman lotus opened the mortal world, before the sunrise, please allow me to dissolve the dew and fall to the dust. After sunset, allow me to turn away from sorrow with a wisp of cold smoke.
Gaze at time, step by step, allow us to meet, unique and independent. The autumn wind, setting off the light smoke that swirled between the stone cracks, rose. Stepping on the reflection of candlelight, listening to the kites of autumn swirling, I don't know, how many years of thin years of giving, lonely sleeves, will always be in the moon on the window, out of the window to visit...
Stacked thoughts are too bitter and too astringent. The taste of wine into the intestines, only need to take a sip, just like after the eternal cold, the pain of the collarbone, the needle piercing. Unable to withstand the autumn frost of red dust, unable to write the autumn silence of the paper for many years. Even if, listen to autumn, sing in your ears; listen to autumn, fly outside the kan; listen to autumn, the words are que Yanran; what do you have to do with me?
Creation is not easy, praise is the heart, tips are encouragement. Some of the content of this graphic article originates from the Network, hereby express sincere thanks, if there is any infringement, please contact the author to delete.