Icbc Settlrments Rearended Deathmoths

I, petal, or a smell or a shadow. Placed in your soul, ready to be dew on the grass in the world, milk moon in the dark leaves. Maybe I'll see, maybe, maybe one day off a lamp in a corner of the room where you sleep, I'm the stain, a spot on the wall, a streak that your eyes, without you , are left watching. Perhaps you recognize me as an old time when questions alone, I question the closed and unresponsive body. I'm a scar that no longer exists, kiss and wash time, love and other love and buried. But you're in my hands and I have and I'm in your hands, coal, ash, to dry your tears I cry. What place in d &; Oacute; nde, what suddenly I say I love you? This is urgent because eternity is running out. Pick my head. Save the arm with which I loved your waist. Do not leave me J. Sabines in the middle of your blood in the towel.

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