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Nov 2015
Hot like matches,
bright with heat

Fiery candles
lining the street

Warm to the touch,
full of hot air

You and I were
not meant to repair

Where we ended
is all we could be

Like a match,
you and me

We were temporary.
And don't you dare think we were anything more.
W Winchester
Written by
W Winchester  Elysium
(Elysium)   
  740
     Brianna, ---, Cecil Miller, NV, ks and 12 others
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