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A First Day of October One day

The blades make me shit. I love twilight and sunset promises that leave me bent over the book of my hours. I spend my nights painting the miniatures of my insomnia under the sheets ... it's my removing the green flames in my melancholy. And when dawn comes, I become tense miniature background under the eyelids of my sleep fat, and my mornings are dying.

Vencredi But this morning is different ... It's a Vencredi just unite the sky with the first day of October!

October
My sweet to me that two o coupler on an eight older, were dragged out of ten.

October
my maple, my land, my air, my dog, my dawn blue ultramarine blue to peel, my body phoenix fire in my blood street beast.

October
my harvest and my Holy Tara inflames me where your land in the other tomorrow.

October
my autumn growling like rabies that revives my sap a spring sun dried under the awning.

October
my sleeping smoldering in her curves snow of my childhood ever again.

October
my beech, my charm ever under the leaf forever defaced.

October
which weaves in the humus chapka dreams of humanity.

October
m'ensemençant as a lover of fire until eternity.

October
your first morning, I could not deny it.

I'm awake and I singed the paper that offered me your land.

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Him Borders

Tonight, the moon took its RTT is the Venus bump. I took the opportunity to climb on roofs and sit on the edge of a chimney. Propped on his brick, my heart has the cudgel. Autumn night and he, I exult.

Downstairs, the city, the world, top, Venus and me. What's better than the roof to better enjoy him. My Aphrodite is full, I do not know where to pay.

slate blue roof of my eyes and the wind dry my skin flagellum sensually dripping from him. Venus me jealous and likes to lick the juice in, but my lair is so swollen that it's not enough to empty the honey.

It is my Krypton, my precious chaos, I hide in secret under my factly, my words Bloodletter appeases no word when I cry in silence.

Yet in my head a sky much crazier than the Forca del destino in the voice of Callas. I've brewed both dreamed of caresses, passionate kisses, ecstasies Communieation, words in silent words, of him on me in that I need to tear the hymen so that finally my cry for him comes out.

Down the street whining by pouring ordinary rays. Mine is a sun that shines on a dream so vibrant that rise a thousand shades of the palette of my present. It must be that way because it shines so much of him.

Then I lie down and the roof of the world, Venus, my sister drew on my foot cuddly face of a bow.

And finally the city, where perhaps he sleeps, my spit can wave a rattle tide, all my love to him forever unveiled.

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My eyes do not give up my feet one inch. I walk through the city as we host an idea. She trots. The sidewalk is wet. That must come from above, it tastes like on my cheeks.

I pass people, windows, lights green. I sniff the doner, perfumes, smoke. I see horns, music, voices. All that vibrates around it but I do not shudder. I like the cornea in a burqa glass, a glass-glass and it turned off my radar.

I walk in the city as we host an idea. The palisade opaque erects a border on the front of my others and it makes me fakes.

Suddenly on my keypad, it knocks on my window. It is the hand of a woman who struck the mine suddenly breaking my veil and my earwax idée a fui entre mes barbelés.

La femme est accroupie sur le bitume humide et son regard mouillé atomise mon mur. J’y lis tous ses chemins, ses rivières et ses chutes, ses lacets, ses amours, ses victoires et ses luttes. Elle a le cheveux gras et la peau qui s’avine mais sous le masque las j’aperçois son été, puis elle me dit tout bas « s’il vous plaît, s’il vous plaît ».

Je m’assois dans sa pluie et c’est moi qui lui dit: « Ce qui me plaît ma Dame c’est de t’avoir trouvée car ta main vers la mienne a chassé de my feet all my customs ghosts away from you. "

We walk in the city and we are warm leads. Next time we talk about the soup of the earth and say why all these borders?