Читать книгу Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby - - Страница 4

Like a mother’s breast,

Like the number six,

You can’t remember

The beauty of the Taj.

And this contrast is woven

Lunar escape light.

You will fight,

You will cream into the radio station.

A fans over you, like

Acacias leaning.

All you need is standing ovation.

Small ship in the desert real,

You forgot the world «mutacabbir».