Gratitude - See Glass-Water-Kisses Sleeping Rooms

GRATITUDE ascended ... starting from rest, extending from the base where the channel waiting time of overflow. I climbed your tilt with the push of reach for shared anxiety there at the top, the peace of being close to God. I went up ... defying gravity, hardened skin scraping to fill my thoughts of his wisdom. Thanks to you I managed to visit the field-imaginary-volatile celestial transparency, and stroke the plumage of the condor, like me, drink the rain from the start. The closer I got your start Thanks to you I was smaller, shrinking when your closer I got to start. JUDGEMENT OF GLASS liquor kills clouded senses and virtue. Reverse the tenderness of life ignoring emotions.

Uncontrolled neuronal announcing final agonizing moments with capricious. Paralysis of knowing and not knowing of desires. Judgement of intoxicating drinks. Cathedral tone with an air of celebration that are, unknowingly, the orchestra of destruction. WATER KISSES - Darkness sonnet seas. Rarely flirts lady in the background. There seduction unfolds and forms that does not deny, they want to find what he seeks. A silent male novel he proclaims his intention. She is blind and fan blown that replicates, accepting treats. Do not flame, elusive, pursues him, he despises. Omit that instinct which is the sign and look circumvent intentions. Finally withdraws from the exhaust. You agree that approaches, the trap and begin their dance of emotions. ROOMS sleep the mist of thought, time and the ancient silence of those rooms asleep, an unusual aftertaste bring that invades my balance. Recalls the voices of those loved ones who danced the air of the rooms sleep. Bibs of silence. Shoes without distance, scrawl intuit children still asleep in their rooms. Required limits sounds of challenges.

A cheerful whistle of a parent or grandparent. The expected noise of that key in the door talking about a comeback, still asleep listening rooms in the winter nights. Sunday's meeting, the hall with her kisses. The call to rest and watchful eyes of a frightened mother that forced respect, still wandering the time and even today, without knowing it, is silent in sleeping quarters inside me wet. May never be closed Teleon memory. Perhaps no more tears to moisten the parched mind and leaves of the book of my time. Perhaps unbeknownst to me, my calculations are lost in the quarterfinals'm still asleep.