It may be a corner of a cocktail party, or it may be some space to escape, and finally you can sit quietly without smiling. You don't talk, I don't say, just sit and let time pass, it's also the buddha's light.
Lying down but opening his eyes, his eyes emitting dark incense, and the light behind him, just lay there. Don't say what kind of frame it is, and don't use the gods to cover up the original image of the authentic girl. The girl should be like this, not in a hurry, not hurried, not slow, sleeping when she wants, lying down when she wants.
This is probably the outside of the barbed wire, and the sunlight does not need to pour directly through the grid on your body. Your arms, and your legs, make your summer clothes soulful, and the smile is so moving. Standing or leaning against each other, all good. It's the best moment, and it's the best of it.
Your eyes are closed, but the hand is turned on. A certain kind of melancholy filters in the play, but it spreads on the body outside the play. Your fingers are up, and that's fine, like a pigeon flapping its wings. The camisole is serene and links your cherry small mouth to a natural closure.
Small brushes are standard for girls, just like snowflakes on red sweaters can melt. Under the blue sky, real things can melt, including you. No one will care that your hair is messed up, no one will care about the affection of the little wind. You stand here, and the blue sky stands.
The headdress is a woman's heavenly eyes, the bust is a woman's earth, and the woman's flower bloom is probably like this. The essence of heaven and earth lingers, the sun and moon shine brightly, there is no flaw, no shadow, and it is with God.
The traps are all under the trees, the wreaths are on the heads, and when you lean against the tree and look at the world with deer-like eyes, any speculation is obscene. In the eyes of such an angel, the trap will be automatically released, and it is natural to hide in the sea of flowers.
You are prometheus who has crossed over, holding the torch to cool the dark world. You hide from the Eyes of God and put on a red robe. But your eyes are full of sadness, and it makes me cry.