The tea is in a whit

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The tea is in a whit

ylq
The tea is in a white porcelain cup, with a white air, and the tip of the tea is rolling like a boat with the same leaf, floating, whirlwind, and falling into the bottom of the cup. Tea scented into the tip of the nose, to the lungs, such as the scent of camphor, sweet and happy, sweet and sly, the taste filled the tip of the nose, bit by bit, the memory followed the unspeakable taste slowly sinking into the bottom of the cup. Tea is from the mother's side and seems to have the taste of her hair. She placed the hot bottom of the cup in the palm of her hand Cigarettes For Sale, even if her hands were hot and red. The pace is hurried, lest the rising white gas disappear into the universe. Put down the cup and sigh gently, only to feel her mouth pulled up. The blue silk is long, but it is stained with the fragrance of tea. It is soaked in the white air. I don��t know, the fragrance of her hair is like the smell of no smell. It is also incorporated into the tea. The tea is the father��s bubble. It seems that It has the taste of tobacco in his clothes room. He always goes home with the night, and the sleeves are the taste of tobacco that can't be hidden. The eyebrows are inexhaustible. And he is always meticulous about tea making. The boiling hot water needs a new fever. He waits eagerly and waits patiently, his arms are slightly bent, accompanied by the smell of tobacco, and blended into the tea. In the heat of transpiration, he could not see his face, or he was tired or gratified. The smell of tea blended into his clothes room is the deep tobacco. It is said that the heart tea is bought by Grandpa and seems to have the taste of dust on his shoulder Marlboro Cigarettes. It is cold, he walked in front of the shop, picking the right tea for his granddaughter, repeatedly comparing, eye-focused, like picking a treasure. The years have not waited for him, the wind, frost and snow have left traces, giving him the dust on his shoulders, the smell in the dust, in his heart, but he does not know. Still doing a love for the granddaughter, let the dust fill the shoulders, how to smear the smell of dust on his shoulders, like a traditional Chinese medicine, although bitter and sweet. Until the temperature is gone in the hand, it will return to the world with this taste. I wiped out the mist of mist between the eyes, as if I had a dream of Yangzhou in ten years. Although the taste of this tea was fragrant, it was not as good as the hair of the man. The smell of tobacco, the dusty taste of the shoulders of the man came. Warm and profound. You only know the smell of tea, but when did you forget the taste of the familiar person? When did you hate this taste and discard him? You laugh, the world laughs with you Carton Of Cigarettes, you cry, they cry with you. And they always shed tears in the long night, slowly and slowly. My blood and tears have already broken into their bones. My taste has already invaded their blood, and what about their taste? White is no longer, the taste of tea is in my bones, and I want to make this tea full of my taste, I want to let their taste into my blood, maybe it is too late.
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