underneath the buzzing sunshine of an autumn sky, she has a leery sense of forgotten highways, where itchy tongues whisper stories of regret bleeding from his guitar ... she lingers there, beneath the velvet softness of ballads once written, that could even bribe the gods... and it is true every color has the scent of itself and soon.. winter comes, cracking voices turning everything white and gray making everything more difficult to see because... reflections are glaringly bright... especially when they are your own.Birth sign: Virgo
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