PREVIEW

... ong and the snow-by-moon heart. The clear and affectionate voice of the girl twirled in the wind, forming a beautiful picture, buried deep into their memory, never fade.

"I am afraid that I am too late, I will hold you until I look at your wrinkles, and there are traces of the years.

Until you are sure that you are true, until you lose strength, for you, I am willing.

You can't move, you have to look at you, until you look at your hair, there are traces of white snow.

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