Inside this world
this one night of darkness
souls dance here beyond
a son to the sound of the clock without sand
old lost track of steps
souls skinless smile
the moon guides my sight to the door
the sun does not bite me now
And now to my door
heart with the key
pictures and my dress
the mask in hand
the sight of your pupil
the height of your bench
the question of who is behind the hinges
acids with cutter teeth
fucks the tag of my
slips through the keyhole CHT
MLXC I can see and scream at my touch
HABITACON OF PASSION FOUND
BETWEEN ONE THOUSAND AND ONE SHEETS NIGHTS
MY VOICE NEVER AGAIN IN SOLEDAD
ERAS PAST ECHOES AND LEFT DOLORES unhealed MARKED
have second part is on the right arriba is the same title with a b in the end, will not let me hang around followed by a penalty
I taking out the trash: The door, the sight and stool
another day I go on another night but
to take the trash to the street time she began to cool, but I like both this
feeling of wearing a thousand layers of clothing and neck trying to disappear, and to sink a little over his head into the collar of his jacket, buaaaaa to feel more pleasant, when was the first time I became aware and memory of this feeling? ...
is a night of darkness, but darkness that gives us
tranquility, unlike which we fear ... fear?
darkness No not scary, is what cannight does not always fit and mold you molding your hours to your liking, the outside is charred and grotesquely decorated
but protected from the heat of pa sun, much to the dedication
principle to give good shape with countless details, but
countless details to the hub, poor, poor with the heat that destroys da
everything he did, but that made me see that what really mattered was how tough
was on the outside, nothing can break and that's better, better muchisisisismo to be something very beautiful but untouchable or crack. That is not worth anything.
A sight?
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