The taste...
The taste will not disappear.
The taste is clean despite my aching body, am dressed up of you.
Tentacular sheets; am looking at the mountain.
Mankind always do the same and i'm becoming unreachable naked branches.
The lover in the hair, the lover in a place at the left of the chest, the forefinger points out.
Sleep, sleep, sleep
We will end up as a deforest wood anyway...
Wait!
Tension eyes, contortion eylashes,cathartic mouth; come closer to me...
You are dancing subcutaneous, and my roots are penetrating the mountain now.
You should see today's light under your closed eyes.
Lodge yourself in the foliage whisper, listening to the noise of the past,
we are already depict in black and white.
All your movements are wet and am dripping above you when the wind raises up.
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