She sits by the fire and listens to the leaves crackle in the dust. She thinks of you and your tightly woven jeans. Two things she'll never forget: the way you taste on a hot summer night and the cologne that is engrained like a signature on all of your white button-up shirts. Two things she'd like to forget: you're eyes in the moonlight and the hood of your car. Two things written on her heart: your name and broken promises. All she wanted was a glimpse of the truth.
Tonight the man in the moon smokes his cigar as he watches over her. Too bad the man in the moon doesn't heal broken hearts.
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