For life to leave a monologue, every week this time, I long for you to leave a time for yourself, parting from the reality of the turmoil, women fans only read poems for you.
The condensed milk of the cloud
One Cup Cup
The wind licked it.
The sun licked it.
The white butterfly licked it.
Lick her cheek.
Her neck is drooping.
Ah, the fallen petals.
Spring in the Yard
It's too late to take it off.
Fall in time and fall into the rain
Too late to take it off.
Spring flies with white butterflies
The initial dye-free
--Chen Yuhong, no dye
In the name of the poem 〉〉 the youth who cannot turn back
Image source: Yvonne Perret
Read you, every word
Every pore of a capillary, I
There are good reasons for that;
Read you, I can
More close to you, because my eyesight
Already close to 0. All the limited opportunities,
Will eventually be subject to a new painting
Reading you is not necessarily according to the rules
You can be garbled, you can cross the border
You don't have to start,
Read you, I'll tell you
But no words, I still
Read you ...
--Lin, read you.
In the name of the poem 〉〉 you are the most exquisite psalm, I will read you over and over again
Image source: Lyndsee smth
[thick slices of toast]
Always with no feelings.
The sticky margarine and the chemical jam
In the often overexposed face
About sweet touch and kissing.
It's the breakfast you have to learn to face.
In the arms of a strange man
Not too much sunlight to render
The haze and the bitterness
I used to breakfast
--party group, breakfast two style
will be the breakfast of two, will be the emotional model, you still eat accustomed to it?
In the name of the poem 〉〉 Don't Be "unwilling" to play: Leave the Love mire six solution side
It's all coming from afar.
Flow towards the future.
For a cat.
--concealment, history, and whereabouts
In the name of the poem 〉〉 Tears to teach US
Picture Source: Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany '" (1961)
We're going to meet.
We are going to love each other
A certain season
That's when the sad story is done
The last piece of snow has fallen.
The sad song is silent
The Thunder is hoarse.
The clouds are drifting away
We could be in love.
--Excerpt Lin Wanyu, "That's when."
In the name of the poem 〉〉 you don't need to be "not to abandon my lover"
Photograph: Fabs Grassi