I had already died on that windy and snowy night
Looking through the snow
in the hoarse fireworks
Bury the past with your own hands
Rotten in the days and nights when no one cares about it
…
But his white clothes are soothing
Standing at the end of winter
Startled by flowers all over the ground
Young people never know how high the sky is and how high it is
I love such a boy
Modesty and arrogance
Proud and calm
Intention: Meeting you for the first time is like returning from an old friend.