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You are one red, fleeting, perfect moment
Of the cool night wind whipping through an open window.

Conversation ceases as your engine roars
Around the silent, harsh curves you know so well.

You and I, encompassed by Dixie,
Sleek and hot as leather on skin.

Keep me guessing,
Red.
I've always wanted to be known
as the girl who was always laughing.
Someone carefree and whimsical.
A voice that can make you float to the clouds
and lay there next to her
not worrying of how much time has passed
and spending forever dancing through the sky
because nothing else mattered.

A girl with a smile that told a story
that would inspire and refresh you.
Her presence made the air feel lighter
and the night sky glow.
She made your day brighter
with a simple tune she hummed to herself
and you caught yourself singing along
and you didn't want to stop.

But to have happiness like that,
I think,
could never be possible
and that girl could never exist
outside of my minds eye
and the poems I write.
But even to have her as a work of fiction
is better than not at all
and for that,
I can never stop writing her.
Love lacks definition
But if you must, It's a..



*Destination
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