#风船计划2.0# After dinner that day, sitting in a café with friends, I overheard a pair of young men and women in love with a lingering conversation.
On that day, the sun had set in the west, the autumn breeze was blowing slightly, and the coolness of the water kissed my hair lightly, and through the tulle-like charm, I looked up at the white clouds in the sky, and I leisurely thought about who would wait for me in a distant place, with a look of anticipation.
Thinking back to everything that happened in my past, she was the most beautiful shadow in my memory, often swirling in my mind, her occasional appearance in my dreams would interrupt all my thoughts, she always smiled at me in the charm of the morning sun, and whenever she left, I was always in love, full of tears.
Now I was the ivy beside her, tying a tree of acacia for her, wrapped around her, not changing her old attachments, calmly accompanying her through every night of lovesickness; if she turned into a tear of acacia in this life, in my eyes, but I would not cry, because I would not want her to leave.
Modern society is impetuous and prosperous, I am willing to accompany her through the long years of red dust, in my life and this life, I found that heart-wrenching true love, maybe this is the agreement of my past life and this life; I don't know if I can touch the heavens, at this crossroads of love, jointly pick up the bouquet of red roses that will never be defeated, and go straight forward with her? Never separated; and she is like a wisp of dark incense wafting from afar, into my heart, lingering around me in an instant, it is destined to me to embrace thousands of loves in one, for her and purple and red, accompanied by a hundred years!
A curved moon, a piccolo, all kinds of tenderness; a flood of autumn water, a bamboo pipe, difficult to tell the love; a life of commitment, through the tribulations, the same for a hundred generations; the extreme spring flowers and autumn moon flying in the wind, hiding the pain of lovesickness in the heart, joy in color; with a flute flying in the clouds. A love song of the world, the smoke and bamboo are lingering, and the dream of the Red Chamber is no longer repeated.
If an erotic text can record my heart-wrenching heartbeat, I would rather take out all my love to treasure the five hundred years of the past life; if a plain paper can accommodate the eternity of love, I am willing to pour everything out, not stingy with pen and ink, and dip a river of love in the autumn water to write eternal poems.
Looking at the end of the world, cloaked in a gentle acacia; breaking through the clouds, who is walking in the clouds, and who is dancing in the red dust.
After experiencing the prosperity of the world, bow a bunch of indifference, tear off the blue sky and white clouds, and whisk a charming drunken moon. Maybe this acquaintance coincided with this time? There is no between us, maybe, only in those romantic love stories; love will never regret, can not hesitate, perhaps hesitate to really become the past life of the sassafras passing.
I will use my lifelong commitment to fulfill my vows to her, but I have no harsh requirements, only that she will gather her inner love and engrave the beauty of this acquaintance in the depths of each other's hearts, and not waste this life!