Cleanist Way To Masterbate

you wore to your lips chapped quite the rim of a glass half empty green liquor. Time thee a little faded, many tests. You were more children than you had once lived, and those of others does make you feel neither pain nor hatred. In your other hand lay a cigarette long, smoky, gray by the tenderness past.

You said you were a woman now, "I was once Rapunzel", and men almost t'écoeuraient. You waltzed in bare arms, each ball a little faster, the enthusiasm carries you off, but have you ever felt happy? Shivering with cold brushed against your skin in all plots. As you had changed, they were so deserted ...

You were much more beautiful when in contreplongée from above are watching you. The prime thee gone wrong, your eyes once so shiny exhorted sweaty and sweet breath, as a curiosity not always see in films and novels of test station. No one in your story so insignificant great lady of the world, not thee one day, one hour, one minute, a fleeting moment and elusive, no one asked you who you were. You knew that you loved smoking. You coitus acommuniante some anamorphic.

Maybe you blot you out on the same breast that saw your birth. Who knows? What a woman feels, the love of a man hugging, a flash can upset the universe. When a man feels, the jealous delusions of women contracted, even one is determinism? Or that we maintain. I love you.