Hair full of air or air full of hair…i don’t know. 

Eyes do fulgurate inside this haughty machineries…

My megalomaniac lady…my unfathomable journey towards your physicality.

Those long wet bodies of moonlight and perceptions of hollow black under this sun, 

Sex and love or whatever…it was easy…easy like a North wind blows between two curvy souls. 

Kisses don’t need your presence anymore, 

Naked bodies have seen the vulnerable ecstasy. 

Good life with love or good love with life…

You see honey I am still a miserable dumb fucker…finding words and murdering thousands of numb aphonic creativity. 

And time isn’t going to let me be proub either. 

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