For no reason, I will always recall some things. Clear or vague, entangled.
Spring seems to have come, and I see flowers in bloom among the mountains. Cream yellow, sparsely. Spring, the season that stirs up emotions. The wind keeps rising, passing over my head and reaching higher places. I always want to find an excuse to meet you, but you easily overturn it. Is it really destiny? No, it's man-made.