#1 On the way, I picked von ylq 15.01.2020 03:51

On the way, I picked up a leaf, not the yellow one, but still green *. I gently stroked the veins of the fallen leaves with my fingers, and I wanted to feel the temperature of your hands from the cold leaves in this strange land. Until the leaves are no longer cold and my hands are waning, my heart is still empty and I cannot feel your presence Marlboro Lights. Missing can always hold me tight with its omnipresent octopus-like wrist, unable to escape. Thinking about your days is like weeds that have taken root in the soil of this southern country Cigarettes For Sale. As soon as I came here, it grew crazy. My heart, now completely covered by it, in addition to deep thoughts, there are endless sadness. Your phone is full of text messages you send, and each one is conveying your thoughts to me. Flashing in front of you is the icy phone screen, and your hot words. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get close to your warm chest. I remember that it was a slump winter day. It is a very different scene from this southern country. Even if there is a remnant on the ground, it is still yellow leaves. Shall we go to Honger together? It's very cold, and the cold wind that makes people breathe in the air. Without a bus, you are riding a bicycle, a very old one. I'm sitting behind the car with my arms around your waist. You said you were not cold, and your heart was very hot. I snorted and said, "This is the magic of love. Even if it is frozen to death in the cold, a bright smile is on his face. In fact, we can take a bus." You turn your head, smile, and say that we were The two big fools caught in love were exposed to the cold wind stupidly, but they didn't want to find a shelter from the wind. I did n��t answer anything, just leaning on your back, feeling the young heartbeat and the heat transmitted through the thick cotton coat. I want the green leaves to tell me that winter is not here yet Cigarettes Online, and the day we are leaving So long. But you tell me that snowflakes have begun to fly in the sky of the northern country. Yeah, it's been too long. Deep in my heart was loneliness, and I felt that the torture I missed has reached the extreme. Gradually, I am becoming silly, except in my head I have nothing for you. Really, often inexplicably reaches out my hand, in the air of this southern country, just for the moment you close your eyes in imagination, you can touch your distant hand
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