Xiaoxiao under the wind and rain

"Don't talk about snow, don't talk about dead branches and leaves, don't talk about the coming year."
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The light shines in the warm current, the flowers bloom on the branches and leaves, I plant beside you, lie across 180 degrees, hide in the coordinates of time, and secretly bury the gene of love in the traces of time.

The balcony in the south does not often talk about the sunset, the dried fish is still drying, there is always a moment in the day when the heart will suddenly become soft, the sun will suddenly harden, the grains in the throat will spontaneously turn into sweet wine, words of praise I was taken away by a bird perched on the eaves. At that time, I lived on the tail of winter, not to mention the severe cold.

Taking a breath of the north wind, the moment the door was opened, the cat at the opposite door let out a sound of sleep, the morning light fell on the hair, and the goddess next door also started a busy day. Inevitably, just for that sweet smile.

The buns at the breakfast shop downstairs are delicious.

Lazy all over, not worthy of today's warm sun.

Don't talk about the reeds in the distance, don't talk about the lights at night.

I looked up, you pushed the window, a soft wind tried to imitate your kiss.