Hide outside the sweet cherry red figure

Although I only see the coffee beans lying in the jar every time, I can't help but imagine myself picking coffee fruits. A rattan basket, a long rope, and a waist cushion, ponder the definition of upright on a sloping mountain. When the tropical rainy season is over, in the cold sun, the only lover is the plump and graceful coffee tree. Trying to devour the beauty of a woman's body, burning at her fingertips. Perturbed to pick every ripe cherry fruit, in its most beautiful moment, plunder its gorgeous. Each fruit is engraved with the deed of Faust in classical floral characters: this is a beautiful moment, please stop.

With a tilt, the mountain politely refused to flood the hot and humid clouds and rain. After a warm rainy season, a cold dry season hangs down, looking up at the edges thrown to the sun, bowing his head but not sure whether his toes have exceeded the limits of depravity. So the berries timely put on red makeup and stepped on the rainbow shadow between the branches and leaves to jump into the uncovered rattan basket on the waist. Hiding from molds, pesticides and insects, hiding outside every sweet cherry figure, huge hidden behind every little consummation. The buzzing whispers of the sun cover the dilated veins of the leaves, guarding the cool silence of the mountain.

Looking at the cherry in the palm, I looked beyond the North Star and fell in the shadow of the southern cross. Beauty can not find the direction, so gently close the scorched black desire. The melancholy tropics are also farthest recently, and the white coastline is quietly hidden out of the eyelids. In the dark dream of black coffee, even if you stumble, you have to break all the cascading virtual contours. Let the depraved cold press the spread of the lungs, the addiction of smell, and finally awaken the distant wings under the ribs. When we are thinking about the coldness of more than 10 degrees, the end of life is waiting for a cherry red.

When a group of pedants are huddled in the cold and damp corners of philosophy in the posture of parasitic crabs, concerned about the metaphysical meaning of simple life, we deliberately commit crimes because of the magnificent depravity of baroque. Worship the heresy of capitalist commodity fetishism, the coldness of monetary alloys and the beauty of plastics. Because it made my lust, like a free atom, turned into a turbulent Pacific Ocean, invaded the coast of Latin and the Red hair City of Huwei at the same time, so I rotated the mouthpiece of language and sipped the bone magnetic cup of the British Empire. Italian coffee made by coffee beans on the valiant Blue Mountains of Jamaica. A cup of fluctuating fragrance shows that desire is not an illusion of the heart, but a wave of waves full of emptiness. So across the ocean, with unruly overnight fantasy, you can also have a gloomy career in the tropics.