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My thoughts in prose and poetry. Bus ride in thin air. We, the endless flash of a funeral,. Our necklace of barbed wire and broken glass. On an empty speckled night. One village born by headlights. Dead with the dusty night,. And the marching bands wrapped in brass. Sing to the southern cross one unblessed village after another,. One stifled orgasm after another. Into the swallowing ink of our exodus,.
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Vous êtes bien chez moi. Sa ne fait pas de mal, de changer un peu. Subscribe to my blog! Yéééé la cOusine,. TOujOurs en mOde Belle gOss,. Tu me manQue graVe ma Chérie 3. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below. Je déprime sans toi,.
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