With my curled palms, the wind slips away from my fingertips, I look at the wild flowers, and it seems like time flies. The most beautiful thing is meeting you, the injuries you bring, the pain you bring, the unexplained tenderness you bring, and the unhesitating preference you bring.
The vast universe, boundless darkness, lost and sinking, even if the rose dries up, you! Still beautiful
Intention: Leave your own traces