Rose round

It's a coincidence that the rose round left for Valentine's Day was accidentally hit by Valentine's Day. Night and soup, lover and rose, all together. In the past, he was afraid to work on his skin, from eating white and fat to eating today's crumbs, and was afraid that he would be refused to eat. And now we're going to change our clothes for all these years. I wouldn't eat it. That's no trick. The clothes are ready for the roses. It's red, isn't it, like, active blood bruises, disinfection. If rejected, it would also be a rhetoric. It's good to think, but it's a bit confusing — when you forget the song — it's almost finished. It's a good thing you didn't forget it all, or you're blind. Just fix it. To add a red song to the mashed pasta, which is not easily smoothed, rubbing in the rubbing, and suddenly falling in love. - It doesn't matter if you rub it in the right way. It's not funny. Of course, you can't have a piece of red powder. It's better to cook a red chord than a fresh pasta, and it's too light when you rub it. I didn't expect this to end unexpectedly。