Walking In The Light Dust

Late thoughts bring new phenomena in the yellow pragmatic, we walk on the leaves of the summer garden in the winter ocean. We start winds in the hurricanes of the mind - water loved the unclean conscience of our love; you are lost in the forest of miracles.

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The dust has been raised by the curtain of passion, in the form of flooscent glasses the dynamic forest of plants passes.
The future passes through the crisis of identity, consecrated work takes away the real treasure and essence of life - the time goes forward and never cares about our call.

The music plays before your beautiful smile, the vicious circle visits the restless dreams of the rainbow beauty. I fell in love, I remain in my conscience without morality - you are a fire that burns in me. Embrace the feeling in the sand of a light greeting enjoy the wind of change.

Professional attitude in sex without touch - tantra is partly wrong on the path of material conflicts - I am a man who wants to sin in your embrace. You are a light dust with a shelf life - the heart is obsessed with your touch, the soul has found paradise in you.