Raging fetus in my forehead, dikeratnya rain fall with a sabet laughter until the forced halt of the middle grain alone.
The cold is consuming in your eyes. I do not know what he meant, occasionally ripple laughter pulled slit with flowers wrinkles in the corners. But the same thing, the eyes are filled with solemn loneliness even though you try to disguise.
Your shoulders are the shrinkage for the silent wounds, still preserved elegance even though the calendar in the calendar evolved. Despite the day's turn, the seconds unceasingly ran.
If we exchanged stories, what would I be frozen inhaling the vapors of your lonely uterine body. Or will you be the one who will fall in my never-ending laughter laugh.
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