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I Miss You With A Marlboro

A Marlboro cigarette, knead gently in a seam, lit it, curl of smoke slowly rising, whirls, flip, faded, and rise wisps, and dispersed in fine threads continuously. Can you say it is not like I constantly miss your thoughts? My thoughts, like the smoke curl, slowly faded, rising, rising and faded, and shall not rest every minute. Your shadow, your face, your voice, smoke the same, everywhere, no hole in, in my mind clear, blurred to and clear. So when I was in the middle of the night quietly miss you when I lit a cigarette, find a same quiet moment, let my thoughts smoke rising, and drifting away.

Think you, lit a Marlboro cigarette, sitting in the window and watch the bright moon night, or listen to in front of the eaves dripping of raindrops, smell the float into the fragrance of the grass in the house and the delicate fragrance of the flowers, feel the heart of a cavity lonely clear ethereal yearning. I don't do anything, just let your thoughts, such as smoke from the soul drift out, co-author of the smoke, the assimilation scattered in the stillness of the night. Have you ever heard the faint smell of tobacco? That night I do not put out the Acacia taste and that deep well read expect to taste of love. Not to smoke the gain and loss, good and bad. I only feel the soul like smoke, such as silk thread, pervasive, ubiquitous mood in filled with warm, I only care about the moment Miss gentle.

When you want to light a Marlboro cigarette, like burning all the time busy, maybe this time is really very tired, so in the smoke of burning let the time quietly flowing. At night the stars always flashing a sly eyes laugh at my mind. At the moment, no matter how good the language can not describe your memories. At this time, the unforgettable you although not in my side, but the beautiful illusion is in front of my eyes, also let me feel sweet honey, I know, whether you where, in my heart you are my heart the elegance, the only care. Gently lit a Marlboro cigarette, in the quiet of the night quietly burning burning thoughts of you. In this not your world, night without you, let me to your inspiration in Vanity Fair in the throbbing, again and again, I want to touch the phone keyboard, again and again, I use their fragile power containment of your thoughts. Contain your crazy emotion, this hard Acacia! How can you do make my thoughts hard? In the journey of life, how much can remain in memory? When the early dawn dawn, the brilliant sky clouds are I yearn the wonderful. I'm not afraid of a person in the dark through the long underground passage, because I know that lovely you like I yearn the rosy clouds, forever in my memory most deep.