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.
用戶評論
漢堡零售批發(fā)
2026-01-12 09:47
常三三三魚
2026-01-12 09:09
家養(yǎng)小可愛
2026-01-13 02:41
玄之恒名
2026-01-12 07:14
一個王不懂
2026-01-12 02:29