In October, a nest of pampered witches and angels, as I walked along the tunnel lining before they tear the isthmus previously linked me to flesh. It was there that the umbilicus, only as a scar.
mardredi was a market day, I think, and the stall of my fate, I let my mother drive unscrupulous, and spread my meat on which no doubt she would have liked, ; plant label the ewe Dei.
To his dismay, alas, when I appeared in my warthog eyes light gray to red. A patronizing lens came from I do not know what water placental warned me of the fire from outside and I made wild naughty but especially, and with tusks.
My first was a cry, a cry like a morpheme out of my womb and whose sound I liked. Her ending in such primal never stopped singing in my mouth. It quickly put a nipple milky well on the field gave me the power and meaning of my first phoneme. And I decided: the lemma is my horn, my horn defense, my cornucopia, my refuge and my tree.
This lemma I still love him. He is the gunner of my dreams, one that catapults the life in my veins like a soldier of the verb.
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