A branch, broken and split, dangling year after year, clicking its song to the wind, with neither leaves nor bark, bear, wan, worn out by a long life and a long death. Its song echoes, cracking and persistent. Stubbornly, it resounds with secret anguish for yet another summer, yet another winter.
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别在这里发癫
2024-08-07 11:46
大锁骨婴儿
2024-08-07 06:45
仙鸭頭
2024-08-07 06:06
更新的一切
2024-08-07 10:06
想吃芋泥鸭
2024-08-07 06:08