In the dream, there are large tracts of cherry blossoms. You stand under a snow-white cherry tree with a quiet smile. The withered cherry blossoms are falling like heavy snow, spreading a thick layer of snow under your feet.
I don't know how many times I have repeated this dream, and that smile is etched into my eyes, and no matter how the torrent of time passes, it cannot be erased.
At the end of the dream, you stretched out your hand towards me, your red lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to call my name, but the picture was shattered. No matter how hard I tried, I could no longer hold your hand, nor could I hear your voice——
pivot.