Just one word becomes the eye of an uproar. A feeling,an inspiration,a smile,a tear. I picture paper fans, and Italian music,lovers holding hands, and making smoke from flour, and sun roofs, closed up in a room forever. Laughing at moon-lit nights and guarded by being indomitable. this is where I run into golden skies and smell the ocean, watching seagulls fly by the sand dune shoreline.

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