Plant a flower in my ear, it will bloom when you call my name, and it will smell the flowers when I miss you.
The moon is unusually bright, the clouds are very gentle, and all my thoughts about you fall into the warm breath.
In all the good moods, thinking of you without warning is my hidden disease.
I want to hijack a dark cloud to see you when the moonlit night is hazy. I want to send you a sunset glow at sunset, hang a street lamp in the sky, steal the moon from you and tell you that I miss you very much.
When you came, I had nowhere to run. When you left, the seasons were chaotic and I was ill for a long time.
Sometimes I miss you so much that all the stars in the sky fall.
Everything is like you, the first ray of warm sunshine in the subway elevator, the first yogurt candy just removed from the convenience store, and the first kite that appears when it is hot. I think of you when I look at anything. When I am hiding among ordinary people and eager to meet you, I hope you are full of joy.
Think of that evening when people were in a hurry, and the prelude to your favorite song sounded on the radio in an instant, feeling that the whole world was you.
I really want to step into your mountain by moonlight, and let your gentle breath take me into your dream. I will think of you when I look up at the starry sky for many nights.