... because you make me want to be better. You make me want to drain the marshes of my heart, what is water to flood the parched, to prune branches that give shade, to take care of my garden so that it can welcome: green, lush, fragrant, not to show itself, but to warm the heart, to make you feel love everything that breathes. You make me want to win myself, to bend to excess with the fire of affection. Fire, fire, fire crackling feel your spark in me ...
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