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Brunfelsia acuminata, ink dyed lovesickness

The first meeting was quiet in the sea of words. You are like a drizzle, wetting my nearly dry heart. You are like a gust of fresh wind, blowing away my endless worries. Under the flower garden, the touch of Brunfelsia acuminata was covered with purple and white merged dress, interwoven in the Misty taste of moon shine. I gently Yan ink, holding my love pen and writing a wisp of deep thoughts in the fleeting time of acquaintance. Inscription —-/text/Yunru [first met, a wisp of Heart] the vast sea of clouds, you carried beautiful lines of poetry, swept across my heart rippling wave, and walked quietly from my dream. When I wake up slowly, you have gone away gradually. I can only look at your far back in the years of wilderness. When I first met each other, I didn’t say anything to each other for fear of disturbing each other’s world. Perhaps, an accident can vaguely remember the fragrant ink left by each other in the past few years. Maybe, time flies, memory burst, but I have never walked into your heart. In my eyes, the three-life rock carved the love of you and me in this world. Wait quietly, your gray head suddenly lights up, and I am an ignorant heart. I raised the sail of faith and sailed to the bank with you on the boat of courage. The lake was as quiet as water. I was swaying my heart boat, and on the lake of red dust, there were waves. I moored in your gentle harbor with full of joy and a little expectation. Invite a bright moon, send a wisp of love, hide in the fragrance of books and ink, support the moonlight, take your gentle dream. I picked up my shy heart and put my poems into your strange empty city. You are smiling like a flower, blooming in the fragrance of ink. I open my heart and travel with you in the sea of words. When you are tired, you are bathed in a warm poem, telling each other’s future dreams. Looking at the sky, cloud Shu cloud roll. By the stream of literature, pick up how many shiny lines of poetry you have. Every word, like Wen Xu in winter, warmed my sad heart. In the dead of night, I looked at the stars shining in the sky and asked the lonely moon, where was the place you walked? Where is your direction? The moon was silent and covered the White yarn more tightly, imitating a wisp of melancholy. I want to think more, I want to look at the next starry sky, with you looking for my eyes. [When you come, you will add the ink of lovesickness] write a letter to fall in love, complain about a fleeting wound, and write a piece of red dust fragrance. I will weave wisps of lovesickness into a short poem, supporting the sea of words and drifting to your shy heart. Don’t complain about the bitterness of lingering lovesickness, just for the flowers in your heart will bloom beautifully. Not sleeping tonight, tossing and turning. I am afraid that once you fall into a dream, you will leave quietly in my dream. I am afraid that when I dream, those beautiful memories will gradually leave with dandelion, leaving no trace of pursuit. Suddenly Looking back, we are wandering in the sea of words, together with Wen Xiangxi, to pursue the footprints of the ancients. You once said that if time could pass through, you would pursue the bold Su Shi. He, wearing a white robe, holding Chinese writing brush in his hands, gently wrote a shining poem. You, wearing a long skirt, sitting on the Rock and holding the pipa, played a song of love. Looking back, I flustered the footsteps of the red dust and tears burst into tears. I can’t write beautiful words, and I can’t make good sentences through the ages. The only thing I have is a heart that will guard you forever. Even if the mountains and rivers are flooded, even if the seas are dry and the rocks are rotten, my shoulder will always be the harbor where you take refuge. When you come, there will be a kind of warmth, diving into my heart of missing. I stood in the deserted Lonely City, stroking the clouds and looking for your stunning shadow in the wind and dust. When the sorrow is stained with loneliness and interweaved with the dust of the years, your appearance will outline a sunrise in my sky, blending some warmth into my heart, letting me see the dawn and hope. If you come, it will be a spring, painted with colorful orchards. Even the branches of happiness will wither, even the petals of happiness will wither. When you come, it is a river of spring water, sprinkled in my dry Orchard, nourishing my long-dry heart. When you come, it is a scenery reflected in my ignorant heart window. I stood for a long time, sometimes laying my shoulders flat, staring at the window, sometimes singing in a low voice. You know-I have been guarding beside you for a long time, and there are hidden places in the heart window with my eyes looking at you. You are like the rain in spring, splashing ripples in my heart, and the water is as smooth as a mirror after the rain. Who knows how much care I have added to my heart. You are like the endless wind in autumn, blowing my mind like light yarn. When the wind lives, the scenery is picturesque, and only lingering thoughts never fall. No matter which season you come from, it is the most beautiful fairy tale in my dream. [Yuju, you and I are Brunfelsia acuminata] we are already very familiar with it. The countless letter are both talk and silent. You may be trying to figure out the three-dimensional me, and I am also imagining your smiling face. I imagine a happy day with you, a warm life with you to take care of, and a code name that only belongs to us. A thousand pieces of paper crane are given to you to keep troubles away from you; A thousand roses are given to you to make you love yourself; A thousand lucky stars are given to you to keep good luck around you. There is a feeling that I always admit it is lovesickness when I cannot sleep. There is a kind of fate that I always believe it is eternal after I wake up in my dream. There is a kind of vision that I always believe it is attachment after breaking up! I don’t know how many stars are drunk in their hearts and how can they be erased with a wave of hand? This thread of attachment. Even if the scenery ahead is more beautiful and better, I can’t throw it away lightly and show my smile. I don’t know how long a meteor can fly, whether it is worth pursuing; I don’t know how long a cherry blossom can open, whether it is worth waiting. I know that you and my affection can be as beautiful as cherry blossoms and as eternal as stars, which is worth my whole life to keep! If the fallen leaves can send all my thoughts, I would rather put the whole autumn forest into my heart. If returning geese can convey all my thoughts, I will spend my whole life thanking this beautiful season! The red and dust gather together, beautiful peach blossom, drunk a season of Fairy Tales; Brunfelsia acuminata, I will die to each other, and I will never give up; I will write my pen and fall in love, and I will feel my love. In this life, you are purple, I am white. Yelan, raise a toast to invite the moon, play with Wen, and live with poetry. You use poetry to make notes, and I use writing as a pen to write the deepest thoughts in the recent years of acquaintance. Zan (prose editor: indifferent) Phoenix mountain spring outing

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