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You are the only one I am poor

Dreaming Back to the misty south of the Yangtze River, the curtain in the deep heart of love rose quietly, and love came in a good mood. How to be indifferent if you fall into the common heart of planning? You are the only one in my poverty. Red Maple fluttered down the path full of green, and I searched your far-away clothes to call back the whispering of that day. I heard that you went back to that city, just like qingse, which was springing up in the cold lane of the empty rank. Even if you knew very well that the invitation in this life was already a dream. Yesterday, the Xuan paper dyed in the Han ink was retroactive one by one. I used the old love words to collect Qiushi who was full of seasons. The day I met and fell in love, there were LUSN small continents with long water. Even though they were once prosperous and charming, they had already grown into wild tobacco and grass. On Buddha front, Van Gogh turned around. No matter how deep my heart was, the dust margin had turned into vanity in the sharpening. I burned incense and continued the tea, sewed a party of plain brocade, and woven it into plain and abundant. Pious believe that the root of love is to know each other. Even if it is not a peach blossom, Zen kindness can also be a fragrance. You are the only one in my poverty.

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