TamaraHottson

• 
• Every plot in my life has something of yours and that's really nothing extraordinary you know as objectively as I do. But there's something I want to make clear to you, when I say all the plots, I don't just mean this now, this waiting for you and hallelujah to find you, and fucking lose you, and find you again, and hopefully nothing else.. I don't mean that you suddenly say, I'm going to cry and I with a discreet knot in my throat, well he'll cry. And may a lovely invisible downpour protect us and perhaps that's why the sun will rise soon. I'm not just talking about day by day, increasing the stock of our small and decisive complicities, or that I can or believe I can turn my setbacks into victories, or you make me the tender gift of your latest desperation. No, not at all.. It's much more serious.. When I say all the plots I mean that in addition to that sweet cataclysm, you're also rewriting my childhood, that age when you say grown-up and solemn things and solemn adults celebrate them, and you know that doesn't work.. I mean, you're rewiring my teenage years, that time when I was a suspicious old man, and you know, instead of pulling out of that wasteland, my seed of joy and watering it by looking at it.. I mean you're shaking my youth, that pitcher that no one ever took in their hands, that shadow that no one ever drew near to its shadow, and you know how to shake it until the dry leaves start falling, and the frame of my truth is left without feats.. I mean, you're embracing my maturity this mixture of wonder and experience, this strange confinement of anguish and snow, this spark that lights death, this precipice of poor life.. As you see it's more serious, much more serious, because by these and other words, I mean that you are not only the dear girl you are, but also the splendid or cautious women I have loved or want to love.. Because thanks to you I discovered, (you'll say it was time and rightly), that love is a beautiful and generous bay, that lights up and darkens as life comes, a bay where ships come and go, come with birds and omens, and go with sirens and thunderstorms. A lovely and generous bay, where ships come and go. But you, please, don't go.
• 
• Every year they see fewer birds in the field the mornings are the saddest no longer they're happy with their song. The beautiful loicas with their pechuga colorada the twos, diucas y zorzales hid in the bushes. There are no old skinny ones where the little ones made their nests, nor are there tortoises, tortolitas, all the birds are gone.. El hombre con su escopeta El niño con su honda They hunt them for fun and even destroy their nests The birds believe God created them. The cernícalo, little, traro of the birds is his enemy as well as the son of the man when he sows the wheat. Never kill a little bird. It's best to have a nest. If you don't have a mother, the chicks die of hunger and cold.. Learn from nature the most beautiful thing that God created where no drugs or drunkenness only praise the Lord. They eat gusanitos and you can watch them they run and then listen and so they can find them.
• 
• Beyond all our sky where the sun shines on a black background lived a very beautiful little princess who trod fields of blossoming fields. Princes born on distant planets temper temper tempers in lonely hours teaches harsh-faced preceptors to love the beautiful and speak softly. One morning as she lay reclining in prayer her dawn before the altar came a refined fragrance message wrapped in the sigh of royal presence. “I am the little prince of that fairy tale who humbly aspires to have your love, who in the middle of a small planet grows, for you, the most beautiful flower. Come to me, my pampered Little Prince, come this far, adored little princess, the most I want in life is for you to always be my beloved. We'll go together on the sidereal roads, we'll visit a fox that lives in the desert, a snake will be the dearest friend, we'll enjoy the grass that grows in the open field And one evening the princess set out on a journey. Was it riding a wandering kite, at the beginning of a crystal clear laugh, or in the brightness of a morning glow? But in the vast distances of the sky the little princess simply lost her way. She did not find the place where the prince hoped. It was never her will, but it was her fate.. He set his foot on a land on the edge of the earth with many rivers that run down the mountain, a great desert, mountain range, beautiful lakes and a huge, very calm sea that bathes him.. And she gave up on the journey back, seduced by the great beauty of a little copy that captivated her with its bright red while hanging from a branch of a little copy.. And the elders gave him a beautiful name that ends with E and E and begins with SE selected among many other names as the cutest they could find. And the princess walks through the places of the earth planting very beautiful flowers everywhere in her gardens they always look blooming and there are many others waiting to bloom.
• 
• Beyond all our sky where the sun shines on a black background lived a very beautiful little princess who trod fields of blossoming fields. Princes born on distant planets temper temper tempers in lonely hours teaches harsh-faced preceptors to love the beautiful and speak softly. One morning as she lay reclining in prayer her dawn before the altar came a refined fragrance message wrapped in the sigh of royal presence. “I am the little prince of that fairy tale who humbly aspires to have your love, who in the middle of a small planet grows, for you, the most beautiful flower. Come to me, my pampered Little Prince, come this far, adored little princess, the most I want in life is for you to always be my beloved. We'll go together on the sidereal roads, we'll visit a fox that lives in the desert, a snake will be the dearest friend, we'll enjoy the grass that grows in the open field And one evening the princess set out on a journey. Was it riding a wandering kite, at the beginning of a crystal clear laugh, or in the brightness of a morning glow? But in the vast distances of the sky the little princess simply lost her way. She did not find the place where the prince hoped. It was never her will, but it was her fate.. He set his foot on a land on the edge of the earth with many rivers that run down the mountain, a great desert, mountain range, beautiful lakes and a huge, very calm sea that bathes him.. And she gave up on the journey back, seduced by the great beauty of a little copy that captivated her with its bright red while hanging from a branch of a little copy.. And the elders gave him a beautiful name that ends with E and E and begins with SE selected among many other names as the cutest they could find. And the princess walks through the places of the earth planting very beautiful flowers everywhere in her gardens they always look blooming and there are many others waiting to bloom.
• 
• I sing what you loved, my life, for if you come and listen, my life, for if you remember the world you lived, at sunset I sing, my shadow. I don't want to be silent, my life. ¿How without my faithful cry would you find me? What sign, what declares me, my life? I'm the same as you were, my life. ♪ Not slow, not lost, not lost ♪. Come to the evening, my life; come remembering a song, my life, if the song you recognize from learning and if my name you remember still. I'll wait for you without a time limit.. Fear not night, mist or rain. It goes with a path or without a path. Call me to where you are, my soul, and march straight to me, companion.
• 
• Every plot in my life has something of yours and that's really nothing extraordinary you know as objectively as I do. But there's something I want to make clear to you, when I say all the plots, I don't just mean this now, this waiting for you and hallelujah to find you, and fucking lose you, and find you again, and hopefully nothing else.. I don't mean that you suddenly say, I'm going to cry and I with a discreet knot in my throat, well he'll cry. And may a lovely invisible downpour protect us and perhaps that's why the sun will rise soon. I'm not just talking about day by day, increasing the stock of our small and decisive complicities, or that I can or believe I can turn my setbacks into victories, or you make me the tender gift of your latest desperation. No, not at all.. It's much more serious.. When I say all the plots I mean that in addition to that sweet cataclysm, you're also rewriting my childhood, that age when you say grown-up and solemn things and solemn adults celebrate them, and you know that doesn't work.. I mean, you're rewiring my teenage years, that time when I was a suspicious old man, and you know, instead of pulling out of that wasteland, my seed of joy and watering it by looking at it.. I mean you're shaking my youth, that pitcher that no one ever took in their hands, that shadow that no one ever drew near to its shadow, and you know how to shake it until the dry leaves start falling, and the frame of my truth is left without feats.. I mean, you're embracing my maturity this mixture of wonder and experience, this strange confinement of anguish and snow, this spark that lights death, this precipice of poor life.. As you see it's more serious, much more serious, because by these and other words, I mean that you are not only the dear girl you are, but also the splendid or cautious women I have loved or want to love.. Because thanks to you I discovered, (you'll say it was time and rightly), that love is a beautiful and generous bay, that lights up and darkens as life comes, a bay where ships come and go, come with birds and omens, and go with sirens and thunderstorms. A lovely and generous bay, where ships come and go. But you, please, don't go. 2. ‘I love you by the eyebrow... by: Julio Cortázar I love you by the eyebrow, by the hair, I debate you in whitest corridors where the sources of light play, I argue you by every name, I tear you with delicacy of scar, I put in your hair ashes of lightning and ribbons that slept in the rain. I don't want you to have a shape, to be exactly what comes behind your hand, because water, consider water, and lions when they dissolve in the sugar of the fable, and gestures, that architecture of nothing, lighting their lamps in the middle of the encounter. Every morning is the blackboard where I invent you and draw you, soon to erase you, that's not you, nor even with that lace hair, that smile. I'm looking for your sum, the edge of the glass where the wine is also the moon and the mirror, I'm looking for that line that makes a man tremble in a museum gallery. Besides, I love you, and it's cold and wet.
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• the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses. the air back under the echo branch. The backwaters under the alfalfa foliage. The back of your mouth under the thickness of kisses.

The haven of the air under the branch of the echo. The backwater under the frond of stars. The haven of your mouth under thick kisses.

• 
• What you know is so little, what you know about me, what you know are my clouds, they are my silences, they are my gestures, what you know is the sadness of my house, seen from the outside, they are the shutters of my sadness, the caller of my sadness. But you don't know anything, at most you think that there is so little I know about you, what I know, that is, your clouds or your silences or your gestures, what I know is the sadness of your house seen from the outside, they are the shutters of your sadness, the knocker of your sadness. But you don't call. But I'm not calling. What you know is so little what you know of me what you know is my clouds my silences my gestures what you know is the sadness of my house seen from outside its the posts of my sadness the caller of my sadness But you don't know anything at all You think sometimes that it's so little I know about you What I know is your clouds or your silences or your gestures What I know is the sadness of your house. But you don't call. But I'm not calling. What you know is so little what you know of me what you know is my clouds my silences my gestures what you know is the sadness of my house seen from outside its the posts of my sadness the caller of my sadness But you don't know anything at all You think sometimes that it's so little I know about you What I know is your clouds or your silences or your gestures What I know is the sadness of your house. But you don't call. But I'm not calling. But what you know is so little what you know of me what you know is my clouds my silences my gestures what you know is the sadness of my house seen from outside its the posts of my sadness the caller of my sadness But you don't know anything at all You think sometimes that it's so little What I know of you What I know is your clouds or your silences or your gestures What I know is the sadness of your house. But you don't call. But I'm not calling. What you know is so little what you know of me what you know is my clouds my silences my gestures what you know is the sadness of my house seen from outside its the posts of my sadness the caller of my sadness But you don't know anything at all You think sometimes that it's so little I know about you What I know is your clouds or your silences or your gestures What I know is the sadness of your house. But you don't call. What you know is so little, what you know about me, what you know are my clouds, they are my silences, they are my gestures, what you know is the sadness of my house, seen from the outside, they are the shutters of my sadness, the caller of my sadness. But you don't know anything, at most you think that there is so little I know about you, what I know, that is, your clouds or your silences or your gestures, what I know is the sadness of your house seen from the outside, they are the shutters of your sadness, the knocker of your sadness. But you don't call. But I'm not calling. What you know is so little what you know of me what you know is my clouds my silences my gestures what you know is the sadness of my house seen from outside its the posts of my sadness the caller of my sadness But you don't know anything at all You think sometimes that it's so little I know about you What I know is your clouds or your silences or your gestures What I know is the sadness of your house. But you don't call. But I don't want to.
• 
• We create a hobby together so we can get out of this monotony so exhausting on my part you will always have that attention that you so desire you so want just come and find out apart from all that because I dance very beautifully for you

I want to meet you and know about you. Do you think if you come and we meet, tell me about you? That's all that encourages me.

I love feeling pretty for you, especially how I mix my clothes and enjoy everything.

Let's just be ourselves and get to know all the new things that are in our minds when we're free to do things let's try and see what happens with all this that's like trying me you're left with lots of desire to keep going and I just want to be there with you

Let's feel our bodies and see what happens in that time, shall we?

Hi, how are you? Nice to meet you, honey. I'm Tamara. I'd like to get to know you. I have to offer you may end up being the woman you're looking for in these pages.