What is the experience of lying on the grass and watching the scenery?

Last week, on the lawn of a university in Nanjing, it was dark all around. The outline of the spire building and the shadows of many cypresses looked like pagodas. I think everything contains a slightly shy beauty. Soon, I was lying beside him, separated by a long distance. We didn't say much, but I felt something in my heart melting and dripping out, very slow and soft. As slow as turpentine turns amber, I want to leave everything in this small black and transparent crystal world. There is you here, all your silent tenderness, me, my melting shell, and the scene we look at each other are all downright gentle. I really want to sleep, holding your hand four centimeters away. At this time, I am 28 years old. Maybe I should have passed the age of having wings made of wax, but I still keep flying. I want the best eternity.