The usual rumble in the audience, terribly boring faces around. Gloomy and boring weather (apparently her man is also very busy) presented us with a gray day. A teacher with an ever -strained look (she claims that she is a victim of love) and in the same faded voice calls a student to the board. They still see her, the following to the board, with a gaze not expressing anything.
I am trying to get together with my thoughts and draw from her report as much useful as possible. Within 15 minutes I manage to listen to her. Suddenly, everything around is from black and white, turns into a color picture, I see how the scarlet rose petals blossoms in front of me. My hands are frantically trying to touch the pen on the table, but its whereabouts are unknown. I’m afraid to take her eyes off her, and suddenly everything disappears at the same moment. Hurry, soon! I pray to God if he is, so that she continues…
They say that a woman does not understand a man, do not penetrate his desire and fantasy. But what then did I experience, peering into the elegant features of this sweet creature.
Baby…
I am moving to a completely different world, different from reality… The baby is going on a soft panther on the shaky sand, bathing in the piercing rays of the rising sun.
She does not respond to my octules, and everything goes and goes, Iām moving away from me, not to see, not to hear what is happening around.
Having left alone with herself, making sure alone on the deserted shore, she throws off her clothes and plunges into the azure of raging waves. Sinva zealously envelops her naked body. I am fascinatingly waiting for her return.
Having shook off the arms of the waves, she turned to the sun and gave herself to its power, stretching out in the coastal sand, like a cat.
Relatively not high growth makes the baby defenseless and weak in the eyes of the strong half of humanity. It seems that she just needs protection, but this is far from the case.
Her icy self -control, grace and elegance, and, in addition, pleasant bitchiness, will be doused with a cold sobering shower around. She is always somewhere inside her icy sculpture and is unlikely that anyone is able to cause her to frankly. All the words that I select, trying to describe this miracle, just fade next to her and fall to the ground with yellowed leaves covered with hoarfrost, but I can not otherwise.
Approaching, I uncertainly touch the palm of her peach cheeks, she shuddered, fixing her strict look at me. Incomprehensible power fetters me, I paralyze each joint, I freeze, leaning over the angel…Right before my eyes, a ghostly paradise of her eyes arises in captivity of black rose petals, the depth of these eyes will force any of the oceans of the earth to doubt their greatness. Above the paradise, two blue -browl wings were spreading, emphasizing the whiteness of her skin, similar to honey plum.
When changing winds-adjustment, the bird tries to catch a stream of air flow and changes the position of the wings. Now a playful breeze and baby raised a lift right now, lifted an eyebrow, feeling its strength over my creature.
Alexander’s lips satisfied my thirst for the delightful moisture and recoiled, ashamed. The upper lip covered with a small fluff, like a baby, causes genuine admiration and a sincere smile. Under the lower, the hollow lurks, as if someone had put the truth of life in its mouth and put a finger to them.
I am sorting out her golden wheat hair, a strand behind a strand, they fall in storm cascades and break on her delicate children’s shoulders. The bangs tucked by the ear opens the earlobe and the virgin neck. The gold chain, jamming, envelops it and breaks off with a roar in the channel on the chest.
Droplets of water – the remnants of love sparkle in the navel in the sun like dew in a leaflet of a tulip. Small kisses I show up her body, like rain in a sultry summer-land. Nothing eludes me: a slender neck, a clappel of a clavicle, nipples, an elastic tummy. I spend the back of my palm on the bend of my back and feel the current pulses, tension. Kiss I touch her miniature fingers crowned with snow -white tiaras of nails. Succumbing to desire, the hand slides into the gorge, my heart is slowly and dull knocking. Having ran lips on pink heels, I touch her fingers with the tongue of her fingers. She, smiling, took my face in her hands, and I feel her breath in her hair.
But it is worth waking up, the baby without suspecting anything, answers the board, discussing Plato passionately about the works of Plato, as she looked at me a second ago.
She does not know about magnetism of her soul and body, it is better to let not know.
Everything is in her treasure, she is the pearl of dew in the leaflet of the tulip.
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