Intro... ...Back Draw... ..Along Poems.. ...More Man is what he makes of himself - Sartre. We'll make us: from you and me. "Oh something like this: to fictionalize love!" - sighs mural: graffiti pants: and: you are waiting for me leaning against the wall "al fresco": and: we'll mason a traverse through the galaxy. My thoughts are crystallizing in rhomb system already: and: cardinality of your light bra: "the cardinality of set with two elements is two" :the skin on that french kiss: Samantha Fox and her poster bravado: tadpoles and Venice. August fleetly. The weight - a deployment of matter in the cosmos fundamentally affects the quality of spacetime - and therefore it is necessary to be naked for us. The hair with a hint of bourbon: your lovely clit: a dissolvent: burgundy band: and I will be begging like this: "but Honey: please: I ate your bubblegum back then!!" Stick for your raised lips: there is a pink lake in Australia and no one knows why. And hands can be freed by terror - you have to tear off your wings: if you want to do that ant work: only then: we'll raise the cups to aphids health - we'll meet together in hysterical fancying duel - after Christmas dinner we'll ring with toilet bell - only then: you'll forget about dummy taste of mimicry: and obvious travesty of peacocks: and a stir in photos - you'll forget in what circumstances the fences are: forget about uproarious hurray: clouds with their swoons: will be only breasts predetermined to contact here: and litmus paper in the gala of ribbons - only the liveliest and the most passionate leap second before pinnacle: and years of it:![]()