Prose – time

In the spring rain, a kind of wetness, a kind of freshness, that is your world, my world.

When the sun reflects the smile on your cheek, you know I am at the end of the world.

It is a cloudy teardrop that will make you feel warm, a memory left by the spring rain; when the spring wind blows in harmony, you know that I am already on earth.

Have you ever thought that the vows we make together will fade; have you ever thought that the promise we made when we hold hands will fade; have you ever thought that we will walk side by side on the road ahead; have you ever thought that we will walk through each other and appear at the next intersection together?

Can we smile at the top of our heads when the moonlight is gone? When the sunset is gone, allow us to hold hands and look at each other; when the water is not there, can we give each other a reliance?

When the stars are not there, please do not leave it alone and let it be lonely in the distance.

Nothing in our hearts will change; when the moonlight is gone, please don't forget, can we smile at the top of our heads? And don't whisper goodbye to the vows you once took.

In this season, the fallen leaves are like broken souls, and the residual flowers are mournful.

It was another autumn, I picked up the fallen leaves in the wind, smelled its breath, watched it lose weight again and again, couldn't help but be a little distressed, lowered my head, it seemed to be in tears. I know that fallen leaves have their destiny.

When the lights were dimmed, I stood in the distance and stared, the meteor dragging its long tail, trying to play a sad melody, swaying with the memories of the scenes in the closest place, I wanted to use the warmest words, express my memories of the past.