Those foams floating in the deep sea.
Those forests that gradually grew from barrenness to prosperity.
Those are the perfect lofts for resting your rustic smile.
All trapped in your dreams.
How many branches and leaves and how many fogs do I have to pass through before I can enter this maze that is so huge that it is almost illusory, cross the deep winter that carries infinite coldness, stand in front of you, and hold your hand with a smile.
Let's go together.
Us?
Well, we.