bleak house
Memory is like a window
The sad love is unforgettable
The sweet scented osmanthus of that year
A young man dressed in white
We are beside the house.
All the time
The breeze blowing hair incense
Two eyes relative to your eyes like stars
Quietly printed on my chest
I'm still here.
You say the oath never forget
I am still looking for the remotest corners of the globe
Your back looks like a dream
Can not find
A path to the distance
A desolate house into the eye socket
