Love is like the sun in March, warm, pale, and vulnerable. I thought that I was enough to resist all loneliness, but I forgot that my love was not as hard, unforgettable, and senseless lonely as I imagined. Life is easy to get into the play, but it can only be like a dream. --introduction

Years have passed, and some old thoughts have been deliberately hidden, and they have not been revealed. You can see my smile like a flower, you can see my bright flying, can you also see the bottom of my heart, because of a name, dark and intricate.

If you love, you can really not forget the original intention of meeting after gathering and dispersing; If love can really be after the vicissitudes of life, it is still bitter equal to the first encounter, I believe that everything about you and me is not over.

You have earnestly promised me three lives, and we just missed the present day. After this life and this life, there is the next life and the next. With such a pious thought, there is no reason why my heart should not grow as bright as water, and the clouds are light and clear. I know that the fading thing is not to forget, but to let all the memories about you be engraved for the rest of my life, like a thousand-year-old incense, fragrant taste, and a long stream of water.

In the next life, I will be the enchanting tree that blooms, begging and begging in front of the Buddha, just to meet my love in the early morning when the flowers are full of branches!

"Poor and uncertain riverside bones, like a person in a spring boudoir dream." Who doesn't have their own lovesick and lovesick spring boudoir dream person? People may not be able to encounter the love of life and death in their lives, but there will be no one who does not yearn for love, and the heartbreaking realm is these two poems.

It's cold, and I still know that my soul is broken. I know that in the past life and the next life, there must be such a person waiting for you, sooner or later, you have met, you have loved, you are happy, you are sad, you are entangled...... The love he has ever had, the most beautiful he gave. I didn't know until the end that hatred or resentment is also love.

The hustle and bustle of the floating world, the white clouds and the dogs. People will always like some people and pay attention to some things for a momentary state of mind and feelings. Sometimes, it's not about owning, it's just about watching from afar. Because I can't give promises, I only hope that some heartbeats can fade away like water without a trace, and only some occasional ripples will be carefully sealed, and the marks of the years will be left as memories that I will no longer remember.

However, in our selfish hearts, those who do not want to take it for themselves would rather let it be empty, but they also do not want others to touch it. In the face of love, we are not honest enough. We may just be perfecting ourselves. If we are destined to lose, or miss something, then this will be the best punishment for us.

In life, there are always some people who have not made an appointment, but they come suddenly; There are also some people who have never said goodbye, but quietly left. Between these comings and goings, you only need to rely on a faint joy in your heart. There is no need to be deliberately nostalgic in order to please anyone; There is no need to deliberately flee in order to alienate anyone. In fact, between me and you, between you and him, after all, is just a passerby who meets and smiles. It's just that because of an opportunity to be in the same place at the same time, I passed by by the wrong shoulder, or walked side by side. That deep and shallow thought, whether you care about it or not, will follow the vein of aging time, thin into a sad desolation in the passing years, remember, or let go, what's the difference? And the passer-by who once remembered and had a similar soul was gone, irrelevant, sad and joyful!

Who said, goodbye, never again; And who gently promised, see you at the next intersection? To see or not to see, who can easily predict.

If, in a certain year, a certain day in a certain month, at a certain corner of time, the afterglow of the sunset falls on your lonely shoulders, and my beautiful figure once again shatters the tranquility of your eyes. Between holding his breath, it is a kind of opportunity, like the evening breeze blowing through the old scriptures, and ringing. How can I not believe that among the thousands of people, the reunion of mountains and rivers is a kind of fateful waiting. And at this time, I am no longer your passerby, I am yours, to man!

There is no if, only but. There is a word called vicissitudes of life, after the experience, and then say like or dislike, it is meaningless, only this like,

This love is buried deep in my heart......