Is It Normal To Have Hair Inside Your Body?

my desire SILENT AND THIRSTY MY HANDS ON ROLE IN MAKING A SIMPLE LETTER TO CRY, TO SING TO WAKE THE VOICE OF REMEMBRANCE OF THAT TIME ALREADY DEAD AND NO ONE MAY NEVER WHISPER ... trembling. POETRY



had stolen your time
And I wanted you to be my life
Your hands were mine And your skin
wrote poetry.

Whispers ... if not exist distant battles Onslaught

sweats
mixed with kisses and kisses delivered passions.

Of all the good things a bit
Nothing in life is eternal
me Your love was What irony!
And still are to me ... Poetry!