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Rhythms

There is no way to be understood, to merge, as we move out of time. Frustrating
cabalgarte and hit it with the bones of your hips, try to follow and again hit and miss.
Everything is there in the movement in the coupling.
Suéltate (desmóñate).
The best dance is not intended.

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Bonfire night

Tonight I made a bonfire was burning in the fire which engulfed. I threw the echo of a voice, the look of slain goat, monthly blood specks, bits of verse mending the nipple, the mouth on my back, the crust of dried tears, bites on the toes and feet insisted that praise, the backpack that crawled some dawn between Europe and the vultures (read "family" policy). The three hundred and forty-four thousand emails, photo black and white in the old pool, the key to a cheap hotel and pass the string of a box without music sulfur the penis early, insecurity in the naked body, the old crow's feet and the cock that treads and sleeps, the inconsistency, missed calls, the fat of MSN so amorphous, so blue, so quiet, a name i Greek and four boys who said Dad.

also threw good faith, warmth, sex in the twelfth meeting, the prudence, the manual of the perfect housewife, compliments of my husband's best friend, glass vessels d'Arques, I used the cries of earrings, kissing with closed mouth, the razor blade and offal, the reggaeton CD's and Marc Anthony (I like Marc Anthony, but his love still not me either), the hands of those committed to my tits, then her arms, torso, and when I came to myself, just left the gray and the occasional post coital gemidito.

Tonight I agreed with Fiona from Burn Notice : if something is too good to be true, it is best shoot, so I was not so bad contemplation and soot I was in the fingers write this without even thinking. What serves as a catharsis, I said.

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This is directly with you.

When I sleep, when I mention, make out your sounds.

helped me. I did not want to show me, clothed me, tied me, protected, clothed.

Sometimes even fire, you try, then you hide, wait, play, catch you, you light up.

But we hardly hear you, I hardly hide.

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pale face

blood

migrates incredulous

runs toward the center of my parts

smile lips tongue expands

Lashes down

placid fingers wake

looking

my chest widens

breathe.

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Dear readers:
was that you had been waiting for the magic recipe for throwing away women because they are fed up. My wife had promised, but I've noticed that has not kept his word. Last night I found a crumpled paper in the trash basket and saw that the witch had decided to get rid of the recipe promised, I allowed myself to post it pick it up while she has gone on your errands. Hurry
to copy it to safe when you realize that I have here, is to eliminate it.
luck to all.


spell to ward off a woman when

bothers you going to need:
A lime-green candle
A sheet of carbon paper, white ink

Glass with carbonated water
Incense Sandalwood
1 piece of yarn or ribbon, black
Pinch of sea salt (preferably extracted from the Dead Sea)

Preparation
carbon paper Write the name of the woman who wants to shake. Then wrap the paper into a scroll, tie it black belt and imprégnelo with the smoke of incense. Place the paper into the funky and smoked glass with water and sprinkle sea salt over the Dead Sea. Make sure the water reaches only half of the paper.
Then light the candle and say this prayer:
"San Jacinto to the Pool, take this witch away, far away. If possible, make him fall in love with ___________________ (name of a guy who falls heavy and preferably in another city, country or continent).
Take it, take it and do not ever bring it back, unless he loses 30 kg, is operated tits, which already reach the knees, "the lipo done, you pass the hot flashes, it stabilizes humor, learn gourmet cuisine, is willing to obey all my orders, learn to iron my underpants starch, accept my remain silent while watching football games on TV or my video game console. San Jacinto, whether these changes were to occur, shall be consulted first if I want it back. Amen.

After reciting the prayer, place the glass in the refrigerator (in a place she will not clean, but segurametne if you want to get rid of it, must be the kind of woman who never cleans up).

the third week, if the woman has not resolved things that bother you, turn the paper and re-insert the other end. Sprinkle little sea salt and put it back in the fridge.
the fourth month, by burning the dry end and let it completely consumed (be careful not to burn your fingers). Then place the glass
complete with parchment in a black garbage bag and take it to the garden of the "friend" who would want to endorse his wife (if living on another continent, and you had time to save for the passage.) Bury it where nobody will find it and return home to prepare for the luggage of the said lady. She will appreciate the attention.

Note: This spell works better if all the ritual makes a jersey, shorts and black socks.

Luck.

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short

list of things that make an act of masturbation insufficient:

• arms are never long enough.
• arms (especially the wrists) will inevitably tire of the third coming, the vagina, by contrast, never gets tired.
• must have tits too big for the scope language.
• laughs a pursuing their own breasts, with the devolution that entails.
• fantasies are so good that we believe them.
• Normally, when we wake up the bed, dizzy as we hit that stayed.
• remain short arms to embrace you need.

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scanner act

last night.

Two strata.

top: bar, wine, civilized conversation, fear, the anecdotes, the calculation, seduction, useless.

Below: your eyes, in delightful journey, sipping my ways and my instincts.

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candidate
Dear lover

I do not care seas retaco, que mees de oído debido a tu prominente abdomen, que te quedes dormido al segundo de correrte, que no sepas hacer un cunni en condiciones, que tu carro se parezca al de Starsky & Hutch y tus camisas a las de Sandro, no me espantan las ganas tu voz de pito, tus medias de goma vencida, la estampita de la Virgen del Carmen que llevas en la billetera o que digas Güisne Yuston en vez de Whitney Houston.

Eso que le preocupe a tu santa.

Lo único que me importa es una adecuada distribución del pelo:
Cabeza poblada.
Piel lampiña.
Pubis libre deseable.

Ofrezco exactamente lo mismo que pido. Más una superb fellatio. Interested

leave your details in the comments. Interested
drop data for the waiting list.

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I do not care I hate titles Swirl

If the mere fact of writing something that we feel will help us get rid of the bad feelings ... would be so easy.
Here I am, years later and still trying to understand why I got into a well-sac. How
still hurts, it hurts.
And I can not blame anyone because I knew it, sensed it and even told me. I wonder if you are like me, who pay for me to "read the cards" and do the opposite of what the "seer" tells me.
should be in this hobby omnipontente one to believe that going to change another person. Or a masochist buried (or both) that pushes us into an abyss that has no stairs to climb again. A vortex that sucks in a vacuum unknown. Today
hurts more than yesterday. Yesterday
not remember.
But then things happen that pull me into the pit again and begin to revive it second by second.
And it feels like years ago. And sickening.
And they tell you you must forgive to move forward.
And you do not know how you try
And

He tries but fails.
And cries of rage and cries of sorrow

and understands nothing

is part of life, but understands nothing.

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scraped

fantasies I diluted hopes

violent whispers deliveries should refuse to listen



sucked
rested swim lonely



worked

born

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While I note that inspiration is indirectly proportional to pleasure, while my lover sleeps beside me satisfied grapes post-orgasmic bite comfortably in bed, while listening to Rigoletto, I realize that I have days remain anyone and smile with wonderful results.

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not sleep here tonight.
slope had a conversation with Hades and what better time that one night alone and cold to hold the end. I put on my best dress, is that God seems so sexy and all black and moody. He was very nice, while Cerberus did was lick when he saw me, they do not deny that the thing displeased me for a bit but it was needed. I saw Persephone. Indeed I must say that you could use a botox session, nothing remains of the little girl that they picked flowers in a field Sicily. Hades received me calmly, in slippers and smoking a pipe. His eyes were tender and sweet, but especially ironic, that excited me so much, one is always excited the most inopportune times. With much excitement I could sit on his lap, he circled my butt and thighs with his big arms and I felt more and more quiet (to Persephone wanted to give a heart attack, but did not dare to whimper). Once settled, he began to speak. Remembered the time I kidnapped my twenties, I said it was his intention to hurt me but I must somehow get out of my world of dolls, acknowledged that the human form that had used for this purpose had not been the best physical presence or more panache, but, however, was proud of the result. He emphasized the wonderful little lady I had become because of this event, strong, mature, sensual, detached. In short, it seemed that he expected only merit a medal hanging around his neck.
I speak, to tell the nightmare, abandonment, loneliness of those days, but I understood that your ears have always been deaf to the feelings of the daughters. I said goodbye, I did not want to mourn. Persephone watched me quietly, I knew I would not eat the grenade this time, her husband was safe.