Pronto caéremos como Angeles en deseo, como Alas de Icaro sucumbiendo al Sol, tengo miedo de mirar tus Ojos Caramelo y rendirme. Mejor ultrajo tu Boca ... #MartesVoluptuoso
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
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"All was dark and silent, the black shadows thrown by the moonlight seeming full of a silent mystery of their own. Not a thing seemed to be stirring, but all to be grim and fixed as death or fate, so that a thin streak of white mist, that crept with almost imperceptible slowness across the grass towards the house, seemed to have a sentience and a vitality of its own..."
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