Men Wearing Nylon Stockings

It makes it so difficult to return

All

it becomes more difficult since they're not. I turned in bed long hours until the pain becomes unbearable and unsustainable dream. Then early in the morning just fall into irregular and frightening dreams that can only upset. Broken sleep and sometimes I wake up screaming, some with tears on his cheeks, and many others whispering your name. Stretching my hand into the air, thinking that I am about to Rozart. And again I realize you're not. Let your voice no longer resonate in my ear to see you go, your little hands will not seek support in the mine. I do not sit in the sun to contemplate or to listen.

No longer will you spend your fingers by my cat's neck when he was twisting between your legs. No longer will you mention my name in short from a distance, or are you going to seek my help. Your eyes will not wrinkle when I give into the sun or going to comment out loud about the smell of jasmine.

I find it so hard since you left taking you all that I belonged ... I find it a place to imagine that the phone will ring half the time now, it almost always was you. With your sweet voice.

I can not walk the streets without imagining, looking for you and create you. I can not imagine that you're gone that way, you have game. Do not want to believe, much less understand. For now, I can not otherwise.

[Stirring old letters ... I found this passage.]

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I'm going back to kiss you on the sly. In a hurried breath, close, threat, saying the name that is not yours but many love to repeat it. Today more than ever I can say, give it to you, sew it into the vastness of your being. Slowly and little by little again have you, feel you, kiss you. Secretly love, love between letters and chocolate. I'll draw you back under my fingertips. Dive into your scalp without thinking of the later. Succionarte in a puff puff me, lighten me, hitting me your soul. That infect a single hit us and lead us. I will return to soar, to break you, to create you. Drop down, let yourself win, let yourself be you. I will become addicted, climb to the top and stay on your skin. Let yourself go, let yourself love, let yourself feel, laugh, desired. Dejate return.

Science Fair Project On Paper Towels

Dejate're one of my reasons

"The world is a mess.

Martin reacted.
- No, Alexandra! In the world there are many nice things!

She looked at him, perhaps thinking of his poverty, his mother, in her solitude:
was still able to find wonders the world!
A wry smile was superimposed on the first expression of tenderness
making catch, like an acid on a very delicate skin.

- What?

- Many, Alejandra! Martin cried her hand clutching a
on his chest. That music ... a man ...
Vania and especially you, Alejandra ... you ...

Tx: Ernesto Sabato, On Heroes and Tombs Valebé

Creamer Replacing Milk

Theft Changing my nights

I will confess that last night I have stolen more than a kiss. For fear that you go. Fearing that do not come back. To give you an excuse. To return to call.

Outletmarithe Francois Girbaud

What's with the new pillows?

I come to confess something, a banality, without importance or significance for you, but hardly the cause of my insomnia. It feels horrible, dreadful, which has been repeated since exactly five nights, when for reasons that are irrelevant (allergy and attentive mother, protective and concerned) I changed my pillow. Since that fateful night I took my precious rectangle de esponja y algodones, no puedo dormir en paz. Siento que me han cambiado de amante sin siquiera preguntarme. Han manoteado entre mis más profundas sensaciones quitándome a mi cuidadora, mi compañía, mi compañera. Me la quitaron, me la cambiaron, me la escondieron. Y a cambio obtuve otro pedazo de esponja (bastante más plástico) donde descansar (¡descansar! ¡Hace cinco noches que no lo logro!) mi cabeza. Pensé que bastaría con unos pocos minutos para acomodar mi cuello a esa nueva altura. ¡Pero no! Es alguien, es algo completamente distinto. Hasta su olor es otro; detalle en el que nunca pensé que iría a detenerme. El olor de mi propia almohada, ¡por favor! Pero es another, one very different. And it's not mine, nor is yours. And never will be. Let everyone know: this is not mine! This new piece of foam covered with a white cover is an intruder. Do not know me or knows my tastes, or my long nights, no confessions. Not so many years my pillow, and my companion, and I will be easy to get used.

Gay Cruising North Tyneside

Deeper, deeper

Offshore, offshore

and fund weightlessness

where dreams come true,

meet two wills

to fulfill a desire.

A kiss life goes on

with lightning and thunder,

and metamorphosis

my body is not and my body is

how to penetrate the center of the universe:

The embrace more childish,

and purest kisses

until we are reduced

in a single desire:

Your eyes and my eyes

like an echo, repeating silently:

deeper, deeper,

up beyond all

by blood and bones.

But I always awaken

and always want to be dead

to continue with my mouth

tangled in your hair.

Tx: Alejandro Amenábar, The Sea Inside sing better. I know how to sing. I have heard.

Change Mw2 Language From Rus To Eng

About the song Papa

I Have Mw2 From Russian How I Change To English

U.S. adventurer

Las z’etoiles de esos dos niños estaban juntas en el cielo; 

algunas noches eran claramente visibles a la derecha de la luna.

Tx: Isabel Allende, 

La isla bajo el mar

  Ph: google.com tell you, to tell you straight .

Where Can I Buyanti-adipose Tea

Start over Chaos

not get away. Come

Nursing Diagnosesgastroenteritis

Calories In Homemade Ham And Bean Soup

not tiny, not my little boy. The diamonds are not male nor female pink. The blue nor for baby, baby or flowers. To short hair is also used by girls, and, do not you're male and you want your long hair? No catalogs aloud. Do not judge from afar. Do not believe everything they tell you. I found it with your own eyes how great people can be behind a flowered shirt, a diamond pattern, a pink shirt or a shaved head.

Lİllİ Caratİ Galerİ

value escapes

"Duel" - Ink on paper - Valentina Becker

Copito, tené care. Swab, do not be fooled. No, Copito not believe him. I do not know how to explain it will hurt you. I know, is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I also know the sparkle in her eyes and mystery that surround you. But please do me this time case. Or at least listen to me Snowflake. I know and I know his moves. You will mate before they start the game. Flowers will fill you and then chew with your mouth open, salivating over your lips and the spit you in your throat. I think that most passionate kisses and enough, fill your poison tongue. Y ya nunca podrás quitártelo. Te ofrecerá brillos en todo su cuerpo, pero apenas caigas en la tentación, cada centímetro que toques cortará tu piel. Se te llenarán de llagas las manos, se te pondrá áspera el alma. La encontrarás carnosa, dulce y jugosa sobre una cama, pero lista para clavarte sus colmillos. Cuatro agujeros en tu aorta y con la ayuda de sus dedos te sacará partes, órganos, el alma entera, y con tu sangre maquillará sus mejillas. El color carmín penetrará en tus ojos y te dejará ciego. Querrás escapar, correr, gritar, pero tu cuerpo todo atado estará. Sonreirá dulcemente, te llenará de deseo, te explotará la pasión y entonces estallará in an evil laugh that will stun you. Break your eardrums. Your head will explode. The mirrors around you explode and it will go one by one the key to all your leather. Your name will sink to the edges of the Christ in all your extension and splash walls. Bleed. Scream. But no one will hear you. And the greatest torment are our voices warning you. I shudder. As a spider when he dies you'll get tiny. And she's huge. Of his greatness to mock, make fun of your weakness. Kiss you. I spit. Bite you. You tighten it. I lick. I swallow. You vomit. Kill you. In all the newspapers published how much they love. Be victim will be the poor fool. But I will. A taste and whim you possess. I will draw the eyes and fill with flowers. You open your mouth and swallow glitter. It will make a cut on his arm and I painted a sun with a smile on your bones. I will tie a balloon to the neck. I completely screwed. With a red bow tie will. Smile. Believe are happy. Kill you. But breathe. And never in the same way as before. Never the same air. Not even peace. Not the same smile. You will not be you. There will be more.

Remembering Never

Why Does Sore Throat Hurt Worst In Morning

Stereotypes Dangerous exploits

Milena Velba Bulletin

leaves those dense trees swaying to the rhythm of the breeze. She whispers in my ear, gives me something to remember, I described the undulating silhouette perfect on the old cobbled street. The oranges are still green threaten me with that might not be to see them mature. What if this is the last time I look from this window?

Does Antifreeze Feel Sticky

I

how are you are things that remind me how tiny I am, and no longer before the universe or time, but to my own species. A person has carved this in a huge marble rough with a point and a hammer, is simply unthinkable, unimaginable to my head. The marble sculpture of the Renaissance and Baroque is one of the disciplines that transports me to another level and leaves me completely dislocated, his mouth open, agitated soul and ego in a swinging unbearable, so flattened as invigorating and inspiring.

Ph:

Prosperina The Rapture,

Gian Lorenzo Bernini

The Rape of Proserpine is a sculpture by Gian Lorenzo Bernini between 1621 and 1622.

was commissioned by Scipione Borghese, who gave it to Cardinal Ludovico Ludovisi in 1622, who took her to his villa. He remained there until 1908, when the Italian state purchased it and returned it to the Galleria Borghese.

is a large marble statue, belonging to a group of sculptures executed by the artist. Represents Proserpina (Persephone in Greek mythology) being kidnapped porPlutón (Hades in Greek mythology), ruler of the underworld. Tx: es.Wikipedia.org

Ph: Prosperina

The Rapture (detail), Gian Lorenzo Bernini

Forget A Combo To A Lock

Banalities

If I could choose what music you hear in my wake, would be the soundtrack of Cinema Paradiso. For the many tears that those chords made me shed, because it has always been the soundtrack of my gray days, by the great Ennio Morricone, for who knows how to dividing soul and volvérmela to assembly.

Shower After Waxing Face

Singing in the sun like the cicada, after a year under the earth,

like survivor who returns from war.

Tx: María Elena Walsh,

As the cicada

Coil yourself as you like and perdete between their sheets. Hacete a knot that will not let you escape. And so when I lift the bed covers, find your eyes shining at me. Your smile just half way when you wake up. "I can keep you on my shelf? Do not want to let go. What a bottle then? "I can get into a basket? How sweet the candymaker full of color? You're going to have fun, I'm sure it's very comfortable. And you can eat the candy you want. And if you can not find the cherry chewable promise to go to buy. But do not go. Dale, give me one more kiss. Hold me a little longer. Well, okay. But only I warn you that your bag will have to weigh a little more. I run. Let me stay. I go with you. I promise that I will wear well. I'll look into silence. I will not let anyone see me. No, really. I promise to be quiet. Acordate I'm always the best playing hide and seek. And acordate as renegades of my silence. Dale, give me the taste. Do not want to miss. Do not want to leave. Yes? Really? How nice, thanks! Sure I'm ready. What is more empty pocket? The stockings I like, I'm sure it will be most comfortable.

Milena Velba With Men

A little angel And it's the last?

I reborn just to see if this time I have the luck to get one without allergies.