segunda-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2015

Cinnamon

Maybe I can take a full glass of cinnamon, for you don't feel the bitter taste that starts on my elth, go to my throat, and over in somewhere next to my stomac.
Thi acid taste of who has just spit the life and swallow evils.
Of who lose the hope andregain it ten times for day.
From who wake up, look to the side, and just get up because there are amazing infinity loopings sprawled on our bed.
I miss the galaxies on your thighs.

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