The woman I am looking for ...
must have an opening for my fingers on the edge of your hair, wear short skirts, so that my hands are the next fabric of her thighs. Edit before his eyes, kisses you give your mouth exposed. Abusing heart and help me put wings to fly to the moon and the poppies. And I calzare
flower bouquets feet at dawn, no longer the mark of my lips, sprout in his neck. Will wrap my body with the cold of yours, give poetry to his ears, his sleeping blanket and the blue of my eyes will go to heaven the day.
A woman who loves ...
The hare with light rays that pass through our window and take our shared bed, gold rings. The breeze will bring the field to the beat on your skin and transports the rivers to wash their eyes in the morning.
For love, is to remove the bars
to dreams.
and escape them yourself.
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