I want to see your eyes when you look at the firewoods. Your lips flow in the reflection of the sunset, Those shadows of the desert trees, the sparks of branches.
You can't take off your heart from the wild road. Where from the sun gose down behind to the mountain.
You bite your lips over something that you can't have. Your arms tightened. Are you remembering me?
The stars start to shine as the sky falls in the dark. The firewoods now about to be just Ash in the smoke. But you still playing your guitar, singing the song that was my favourite.
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