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Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Tonight, the moon is cold

Suddenly it felt warm, and the wind blew through the heart

Another year

Spring to autumn, time

Take away the dust from many memories

What is precipitated, is still those

Lingering, and unapproachable attachment

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Your smile is as close as it gets

In time, projected

Countless flower shadows

Like midnight, the ephemeral flowers that bloom

In March, the peach blossom pond is full of fragrant trees

In the garden of dreams, the four seasons are like spring

How many times have you woken up from a dream

The palm is still there, there is your residual temperature

Still in your ears, there are your whispers

Moonlight is like water, like your touch

Sprinkled in front of the window, fragments of thoughts

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Tonight, I am intoxicated in the wind

Listen attentively to everything trivial

There's you there, the induction in the wind

There is also you, the call from afar

Tonight, I carved traces of the wind

Let the stars light up, that candle lamp

Ignite, my sleeping soul

Go with the wind and banish

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Again, write you in

Lines of poetry in my dreams

Crazy for you, crazy for you

In the ocean of love, together sink and float

Nothing to worry about

Again, put you in

North and south of the great river, desert plateau

Woven into sails with moonlight, together

Go for a free swim

Fearless

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

Tonight, I'm going to open it

Every window

Let the wind penetrate the atrium

Let time settle in

Every tiny cell

Let the memory, stay

Together, every inch for a moment

Blessings will be made again

Folded into a white pigeon that can fly

At the dawn of the day

Towards the sun, release

Fly off into the distance, right next to you...

Thinking of you, the palm is still there, there is your residual warmth; the ear is still the same, there is your aftersound

""" public number: late night reading

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