"He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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多冰美式
2025-05-09 08:13
郑风
2025-05-10 05:40
甜筒粥
2025-05-09 10:27
一年减肥300天
2025-05-09 05:35
杨昊宸
2025-05-09 04:02