Deep in the night, the moon's frost-like glow quietly spills upon this pond of sleeping lotuses.
He stands barefoot at the water's edge. The exquisite ancient robe he wears is slightly ajar, revealing skin that gleams with a cool, pale luster beneath the moonlight. The lines of his body are fluid and defined , not brawny, but imbued with the agile, elegant leanness of youth.
His indifferent blue eyes gaze upon the reflection in the water, as if locking eyes with another solitary soul. In this moment, even desire settles, becoming a silent poem.
ๅคๆทฑ๏ผๆ่ฏๅฆ้๏ผ้้ๅฐ็ๅจ้ไธๆฑ ็ก่ฎไนไธใ
ไป่ตค่ถณ็ซๆผๆฑ ้๏ผ่บซไธ้ฃไปถ็ฒพ็ทป็ๅค่ฃ้ท่ขๅพฎๅพฎๆ้๏ผ้ฒๅบๆๅ ไธๆณ่ๅท็ฝๅ ๆพค็่่ใ่บซ้ซ็็ทๆขๆตๆข่ๅๆ ๏ผไธฆ้ๅผทๅฅๅฃฏ็ขฉ๏ผ่ๆฏๅธถ่ไธ็จฎๅฑฌๆผๅฐๅนดไบบ็ใๆๆท่ๅช้ ็็ฒพ็ฆๆใ
ไปๆทกๆผ ็่่ฒ็ผ็ธๅ่ฆ่ๆฐด้ขๅๅฝฑ๏ผๅฝทๅฝฟๅจ่ๅฆไธๅๅญค็จ็้้ญๅฐๆ๏ผ้ฃๆ พๆไนๅจๆญคๅปๆฒๆพฑ็บไธ้ฆ็ก่จ็่ฉฉใ
Yusuf Arifin
2025-06-17 14:57:40 +0000 UTC