In the cave near the lake we spent the nights clear and well in the summer.
Sometimes when I decided that I must be lucky, I did enter the four walls that gave it room.
She was older than me by two or three years, and remember what was really right about everything. He explained
what love is. The board sold to the military for one hundred dollars. He sold his body and his mouth.
that nights, if I was lucky, she gave me the hands and sweaty dew pleasures in the cave.
His lips were soft and fragrant, I loved those lips. More rarely, I made her touch and swipe your finger slowly feeling every nuance, every wrinkle of those fleshy petals and passionate.
I lost in every shadow and forgotten by the moonlight, shining in every little drop of saliva.
I was in love. Madly. His eyes were the same color of the olives but the sun will bloom was some reflection of silver and I pray that never sets.
bombs of 39 'snow on us, on our homes, on our stories.
The buzz that we threw into the vortex of the panic from a warning siren sounded.
The sun went down and she lost the nuances in his eyes and the shadows in the wrinkles of the lips that I loved, lost his hands with which I stroked fortunate in the evenings, he lost a leg and was left disfigured.
Even the moon was covered by smoke rising to the stars and I was expecting.
Some time later committed suicide.
The military continued to buy the love of prostitutes who took his place but he had no lips, and I look every now and then.
stop waiting to see snow in summer.
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