I look outside and it is almost spring, the curtains are so full of light that seem to have been cast with chopped nectarine, good ones that mature in between late July and early August, in the yellow fields Pregnant and dancing right behind my house.
Throughout this poem I feel inside, in this whirlwind of passion and color, I would say go to hell but fever, you made me miss the show for Paolini, anxious for months with my subscription in theater hand, that force me into the house in two layers of cloth without wetting myself from the sun, you're making me postpone the use of my new telephoto lens for my beautiful camera that does not make me a decent celebrate 60 years - right now - my mom crazy, I've had to postpone forthcoming events connected with 5 highlight of the day my life.
With all my heart, in this whirlwind of passion and color, go to hell.
IN PHOTOS: tents so full of light that seem just been cast with chopped nectarine, good ones that mature in between late July and early August, in the yellow fields and pregnant dancing just behind my house.
0 comments:
Post a Comment