Читать книгу She miss you - Lerysol - Страница 19

Friday. Homeless rain is trampling. Muted tones. Flickering candles, thin threads of silence and romance. Packs of invitations in messengers vibrate, similar ones advertise entertainment. Voice with strained delights. Getting ready. Lace. A little platinum. Sapphire will add sophistication. Strict. Heels are unattainable. It’s time. Bits were cooked to the stop, whipping fatigue. Bar. Glasses first, getting used to it. Flirting is light. Non-committal. Exchange of sarcasm notes. Attracts elastic, reciprocal. Boredom. Evening. own entertainment. Ocean. Mountains. Stars, with black hollows. Drops of degrees make it clear that, in fact, by applying the theory of probability, there is no chance of changing the essence of what is happening from one’s own lever, which affects the speed and quality of the ball. I drown, laugh, create patterns in a mixed dance. Fears are diverse, they stick to the ugliness when moving a little away from the verified, predetermined. Drink? Grape-burgundy flow down the larynx, lingering on the villi, exciting the receptors. I drink with pleasure. Following trends with the tips. Bursts of exciting general news. Discussing, dissolving in other people’s stories, saturated with crooked hyperboles to give the sophistication of tears and suffering. Drip irrigation is required for the best. Nods smell of compliments. Random are not accidental. Words are automatic, in response to counter. We know about mutual predatory loneliness. Everyone present has the final disappointing diagnosis of brainwashers in their pockets or purse. demands to break free, to tear the veil thrown over. Without unnecessary words, it is chartered to him. A little more pasture, exchange of words, observations of the connection of cobwebs for the future. The Road to Physics. The night is full of neons. The acoustics from “Bose” with bass do not allow the arteries to sleep. A little tiredness. We change the route, turning the Meshlinov ones towards us. It’s easier this way. Sketching out forecasts for waking up in the morning. It is easier to see him off, after the middle of the week to cross paths for the return of a necessarily forgotten trifle. Remaining in the comfort of her own, than, like crumpled with… Dragging through the entire tired metropolis sleepy. Kisses, biting into the blood with corals. Sheets chaotically scattered. Hills went crazy. Filling the naked bricks of the walls with animal moans. Biting into the saturated with manicure. Lips on cubes. The remnants of lace in passion in shreds. The light of the pupils, shuddering, froze, in fractions of seconds soaking up the picture of the completion of pleasure. The next drops of predatory energy were selected. Subtleties. Crumpled. Wrunken. Exhausted. Exhausted. Stomach demands to be filled with new proteins, carbohydrates. And silence is also required. Five in the morning. Sleep. Things with foreign smells for armored, neighbors are no strangers to spectacles. Roars or sobs in useless attempts to explain themselves. Meaning? Take a shower and sleep. Burned.

Slammed. “Buddy, bring the bill. A bottle of champagne is mine, count, count, strain the buns, a little faster… How are you doing? Miss. I noticed it. I cling. Like warm sand seeping through. Tenderness is gradually washed away. A little earlier, I received with delight new smiling ones. Now it’s easier, I don’t fall in love with colorful covers, on pause, waiting for a catch, more often justifies. I create conditions that appear with a fixator. Not rushing into the dive. With wide swings, I give myself to the boundless, and then for hours in the grains of sand with a star. And how are you? Not so loud? Not so enthusiastic? Something similar? But it’s calmer this way, it’s calmer this way. Disappointment in oncoming people gets boring. I’m bored. If you want to, fly in. I want silence in warm native embraces.”