White Loong lifts moon from water's face, yet lingers still, one step too late. Ripples shimmer cold and pale, their glow spares not the one astray. Where ink has dried and wells run bare, a lone scale's path returns in vain. The silk, untouched, remains unstained, while silver tears fall night by night.
Elegant
1362
Fresh
370
Sweet
392
Sexy
459
Cool
2782
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