Jul 2020
I have no idea to tell you the vault of your beautifully curved cherry lips, or just the petrified, chilled solitude of my bed? I don't know if I should tell you about the loneliness of the empty bunch of flesh that once threw mightily at the glances of heaven, at the words of flirtatious angel eyes, - yes, when the delicate vibration of the Spirit opened the bouquets of flowers,
and the blessed conscience also responded with tremor, devotion, faithfulness, and selflessness! - We marvel at the disappointing present: What did we do together in a storm of passions was only an edited draft of our disappointed unhappiness? - In the end, the same thing always pulls and strings, taking care of our heartbeats in spacious handcuffs when I daydream
about you to shake off the snares of my dreadful nightmares permanently you no longer pay attention to me: If you sacrifice to someone else with the fidelity of kisses I stubbornly, I waver! An overly hasty year is coming again, with our idyllic daydreams - maybe the wire-spike of our disappointment will still embrace us. And I know not what I may say, that I may pray with thy feet.
what would I whisper as a confession to your wounded eardrum, gently into the purple-vaulted vault of your lips. In exile of pain, it would be good to hold on to the teeth of the universe for sure, permanently and to feel the balm touch of your dark and drained amber hair with harmony. It would be good to know
that your immortal laughter, there was no fault in your elf patience as I groped for your sparkling light every single day, and I would have your wishes as blind moles.
and the blessed conscience also responded with tremor, devotion, faithfulness, and selflessness! - We marvel at the disappointing present: What did we do together in a storm of passions was only an edited draft of our disappointed unhappiness? - In the end, the same thing always pulls and strings, taking care of our heartbeats in spacious handcuffs when I daydream
about you to shake off the snares of my dreadful nightmares permanently you no longer pay attention to me: If you sacrifice to someone else with the fidelity of kisses I stubbornly, I waver! An overly hasty year is coming again, with our idyllic daydreams - maybe the wire-spike of our disappointment will still embrace us. And I know not what I may say, that I may pray with thy feet.
what would I whisper as a confession to your wounded eardrum, gently into the purple-vaulted vault of your lips. In exile of pain, it would be good to hold on to the teeth of the universe for sure, permanently and to feel the balm touch of your dark and drained amber hair with harmony. It would be good to know
that your immortal laughter, there was no fault in your elf patience as I groped for your sparkling light every single day, and I would have your wishes as blind moles.
