Sandy Curl and eyes of a small bottle of sky
"She bit her lip until it bled the silences, and they came one after another in single file, and spoke well, dumb."
L I removed the butt and smoke. I always said smoking is disgusting, but still smoke, you take a moment to enjoy the rotten taste of tar, taking his life turned to ash like a mantis in heat and the cigar lover prey to their bite, dismembered him mercilessly, an easy death until no one is aware of whether it is alive or not, whether they throb throb or dream or if they do not even dream of the night
Today hurts us, picks us with their black hornets rather accurate. Today the night is so raw and so black that nostalgia has come to velarnos under the bed, his small eyes and big mouths with short arms but fail to embrace
Someday these have to teach you to embrace nostalgia. No, wait, maybe it hurts because your arms are too short (or your heart too small). No matter, we huddled on you to look like a fragile and precarious part of yourself.
No matter, the little girls survive each day without those arms that encircle and pinched as small balls of green clay. With hearts survived unscathed but marks wrinkled wrists or on the lips. No matter ... The dream is a simple, almost sweet to the touch, more or less as it would be a cotton candy smashed on the pavement. Today
night forcing us to mourn, to mourn and bereaved children, to mourn as if there is still hope that gnawed on hold. And it is already almost no, they've been lame ants that inhabit the trees forgotten by time and people (deciduous and tears of lamb).
L told me that the bathroom light flashes, you must be sad.
- Last night when I got home after a pint of rum, I turned off the light and dark shower. It is good that the sad things are flashing, but it could do in the morning ... - says, while small quijote sucking me up. Sometimes would throw out the window, others will lick the tears (with love from calf) one by one, until no salt particles left on his cheeks
Meanwhile the clouds have eaten dinner at the sky, are breadcrumbs spread over the vast infinity. They are gray spots on a background of chimera.
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