We're loveful, There's plenty of textures for us to try, like new walks on the parks of our sensations. Our minds turn to black, everything dissapears around our magic contact. Blackness is just here to watch, swallowing our dry worn-out hearts in it's foul breath of self-consciousness.
Just a little drop of you can cure this torn flesh i have here for heart.
Cure? Or Curse?
martes, 8 de julio de 2008
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1 Habladurías:
askdjanska te voy a extra~nar
y quiero no see
verte D;
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