Lying by the Seaside, Dreaming... another language

Sunset by the seaside... everywhere around me sea and sky, purple entwined with red, so tightly you can't clearly discern one from the other... just like the young couple lying on the sand, but for them there 's no sea, no sky, only the eyes reflecting them , two are green and two are blue, and they combine with the red and purple, making... someone is playing a guitar somewhere afar, a melancholic melody, maybe a little old, it speaks of Spain, of sunsets by the sea... you can hear the guitar, but you can't see it... you can smell it though, I'm sure... cedarwood... I wonder if the tree had a dream about the guitar, while it was sleeping in the forest before it was dead... no, not dead, nothing ever really dies... the tree just transformed into music, just like the small, green caterpillar crawling on its branches transformed into a moth... a butterfly of the night... and the night has fallen... red becomes black, and so does purple... the only contrast in the darkness are the tiny lights on the sky... these, and the young couple, who by now have fallen asleep... the guitar has stopped, probably sleeping, too... what are the dreams of a guitar?... maybe it dreams of cedars, and then wakes up in the morning, a little depressed, wondering... or maybe it dreams of lullabies and mellodies and harmonies... the moon is high up on the sky, silently ( maybe a little condescendingly) watching its reflection on the sea... the reflection is mocking the moon, shivering on the waves... a fishing boat sails through the playful reflection, which runs away scared, only to return when the boat has passed, under the mildly sarcastic look of the full
moon... and the sea is whispering slowly, calmly... if only....

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