"Delicious memories that bring home drops on her face salted"
"Sometimes you cry with a smile"
I lie, I take the cushion and squeeze strong, I think about how many moons are alternate, I think of things that are there and there were, the eyes half-closed shake of salt and bring to his lips, his lips tight in his teeth the jerks dormant soul, you hear the screams in the heart without make a noise.
Photographs of a child from the semi golden helmet, eyes full of dreams, sometimes swollen due to bites ... was no friend of bees, took the water pistol and approached the hives (poor bees) swamps completely. Then began the flight, the race to feel better, feel more free to run, without having to reckon with her ... she never missed. A, but only one was enough! When you least expect it reaches her, and reload the gun at the fountain ... you pricks! And not in a random place ... in the eyelid of an eye ... days with a half-closed eyes ... and inevitably a row of bales incredible ... climbing on the glass was old, I'd say so large that I could grandmother to laugh ... who worried about the bite, you also forgot to scold me ... In three years have happened 6 times. Every summer a couple of bites ... Photos speak, eyes always ...
Yes, I must confess a secret, there were bees that collapsed soon after kissed my eye, got lost in my eyes even before tasting the eyes ... I was a child seducer ... do not miss a chance ... Bees were my most loyal admirers ...
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