Este blog pertence aos amantes da noite e do obscuro. Estamos aqui para magoar e sentir nisso um certo prazer. Se há blogues que cultivam a morte, este é um deles. (TEMPLATE EM ESCAVAÇÃO).
13.3.08
As trains go by...
... and snow drips from the sky i remember a white winter dove and the cold that warmed her love It fitted us both as if a silk glove It turned us weary as if we were a lie but with a kiss, as trains went by - I knew - we had time.
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