Missing is powerless and humble. The shattered light and shadow on the road are the hazy silhouette of the thick shade in the midsummer sunlight. Her short hair was gently lifted by the breeze, and the fragrance in the air dissipated in the sky. At that time, we always felt that there was monotony in the distant waiting, but the joy never left. Only now, the haze has dissipated, and the days that used to be considered far away have finally arrived. Years later, I suddenly touched the string of memory, thinking of the young and frivolous youth that we once stepped on together. Such a bright smile, such a beautiful and delicate person, such a hot summer. 

A small umbrella continued the lingering drizzle. Quietly, listening to the sound of the wind blowing, the initial movement is surrounded by handwriting. Forget the arrogant indifference, this glorious season sprouts, and later a new commemoration. At this moment, I just want to read those warm memories and let them go. Gradually composed the rhythm into my youth and a little sad poem.

I close my eyes and let the raindrops run down my face. The existence of pain disappeared in the sky and blue dream, I recited this poem over and over again. It reminds me of the resentment in your eyes, the perfect curvature of the corners of your mouth, and your beautiful face under the starlight. I don't want to wake up because you are in my dream, in my heart. It stands at the highest point of charm, euphemistically transparent, and blooming arrogantly.