In her empty wine of glass, there’s a world of lost dreams.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNIn her empty wine of glass, there’s a world of lost dreams.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNAugust died but summer lived on with your kiss.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNThe way she danced through life was poetry.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNWe were half a summer love but a forever kind of memory.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNIt’s January, it’s cold and I search the sky for summer like I always do.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNThe open road is the wanderer’s wonderland.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNSpring is poetry poured into nature.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNEvery drop of her gin held a lost world of night sky dances.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNI either want a love like poetry or no love at all.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNIn a world of lost souls how could I ever find a home?
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNI fell in love with the way you wanted more.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNI see the world in shades of you.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNThe scent of rain is just as much as an illusion as your love.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNSummer was soaked with you.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNIt takes effort to make it to forever.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANNDon’t fall for someone who doesn’t have a spark of wild in their eyes.
MARIE-KRISTIN HOFMANN