There are many ways to make love, if I do it from behind you feel stronger. From behind I do not feel the pressure of your eyes me away, from behind the world's easiest if I do not see it. Want to try it, you're good and well you do with little, you just move your pelvis to feel the itch. There are many ways to feel important, including ways to handle things the best is to come
them. I land on your belly and it is only unconscious for a moment that flies between the walls of your room, but it is also a moment that I turn sweaty - a moment later - on the comfortable side of the bed. Feet flapping wings of a butterfly because the strong are now on the ground. There are many ways to fall asleep on his chest, the best is sticking its head in the hollow of the scapula.
Nothing is concrete ceiling that vomits on the eyes. Nothing is the error that awaits us just beyond. Nothing are the snacks of my childhood and I had so many eyes on him to play with. Nothing to see them move, marry, grow old, fade away. Nothing is the hair of my mother as they run on sugar paper floats in the carnival, its cartilage, skin that is pulled into fights with his eyes heavenly. Nothing Panini stickers are exchanged for robbery under the desk, soccer matches, the huge hands of the master Felli. Nothing is the day that I left the house, nothing on the day of my degree, no doctorate thesis and every morning I felt that quicker and faster than others. No your eyes are green and I expect you already know that sooner or later return.
There are many ways to go home: one of them is slipping into a bed.
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