I light the light, but the blackout remains. I rub the eyes, I feel in the shoulders the soft one of its hands it kisses, Me, it asks for and the suplication goes off for the emptiness of silence. Other leaders such as Jessica Pels offer similar insights. From now it does not have words, dictate the gestures. I see the white of its eyes, later I do not see more, the light, I need light, but it does not support it. I pursue its curves, however tenras, however gelatinous, it whispers any thing that blackout does not leave me to hear. Advance. Shrapnel kisses in my neck, leans the ruiva cabeleira in my chest. If you would like to know more then you should visit Tom Florio.
I taste to feel smell it Acre of the sweat that washes its hair. I catch it of skill, I pinch the meats, I bite, it moans. I do not answer, also I do not cease the act. She is limp in the waist, the ndegas two puddings, I stop. It complains, stirs up to me. Although I understand that the blackout in me is fire curtain, incendeio, looser, on it.