He went to work on time every day, ate the sandwiches she made, came home on time, and let her gently put on his sweater and eat the pills she had packed. His life lacks echoes, leaving a rope tied in a deadly knot. She has dreams. A plump and juicy self, dancing to the shadows, back and forth. She looked at Mount Fuji in the distance, covered in snow, exuding an obsessive presence. She knew very well that husband and wife needed to complement each other, so she turned slightly and began to claim the day-to-day personnel.
There is an end to such a long journey. So one day, her lover was about to leave her, and she finally woke up, holding her breath deeply. Expressions are too easy to deceive. She suddenly became determined, so the two got on the walking train. The flies on the transparent window seem to be saying that the mayfly has only a short life, a day of pain, and a day of indulgence. She was in pain and couldn't help crying.
In the sound of the churning waves at night, she stretched her limbs and wandered in love with the stiff him, kissing him.
The one dressed in red seemed to be her, struggling with the hardship of loss, looking at the white light in the darkness, the self in front of her, with a soothing smile. The waves that rolled in at night carried her away from this sleeping body. One day sees the sky, one night is heaven.
He took her blue sweater and went where she wanted to go most. Such a painful blue flame burned densely in his chest. She could see the cherry blossoms floating in the air, seeping deeply into the sky, and the sight made people cry. I can't imagine the journey without her, even if I see anything, it doesn't count. If time could go against the flow, however, she was gone.
...
The morning mist has not yet dissipated, and he was wearing her pajamas, dancing sadly and recklessly by the water, with two lovesick gestures in love. Then she came with him and rubbed his tender face against his. The lament you hear is their first promise and their last chant, and they're back on the old bench, leaning on each other in the fresh sunlight.
I thought the cabbage rolls on the poster were them, but now they stick together and can't be separated anymore. A little gibberish.
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