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free online love poem

se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
felicidade
ainda treze anos
eu espero-o
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
alguns dias mais ventosos
os céus que eram ashen e sober
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada

 



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