You smile like the sun in March.
You appear like a breeze.
Streets Of London. Your slender tender and bustling figure behavior between misfits.
Big Ben. You face in smile into the light and shadow.
In the library. You read down eyelash and nose incitement as the most beautiful scenery.
If I were the sun, I only wish to embrace summer breeze away.
Your smile is like the warm sunshine in March.
Your appearance is like a ray of breeze.
On the streets of London. The gentleness of your slender figure is incompatible with the prosperity.
Under Big Ben, the arc of the smile on your side face disappears between light and shadow.
In the library, your eyelashes and nose fluttering as you lower your head while reading a book seem to be the most beautiful scenery here.
If I were the blazing sun, I just want to embrace the breeze and take away the heat.