Home > Uncategorized > confesiunile unui motan halterofil 2

confesiunile unui motan halterofil 2

What do you see in morning’s mirror, my son? Is it the soft, silky spot your mother gave you as a child, or is it something else?

I remember the day that I met her. Her pale, white whiskers wondered in the grass like smell of cheese and trapped disbelief. I curled around her neck and she was mine. So young…and night grew still as our bodies lay to rest. The blisters of eternity couldn’t begin to describe that passion and that sorrow. And you were shedding the blue of your eyes for your grandfather’s Grey skin.

It’s older than a dream.

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