HaslyHamipton

🐖 🎀 😉😉 𝐼𝓂 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸❤𝓂𝑒 𝓉🌸 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 😉😉 🎀 🐖

° 🎀 𝑀𝒾 𝐻❤𝓇𝒶𝓇𝒾🌞 𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓈𝒾❀𝓃 𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑒 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒶 𝒟☯𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔🌺 𝒹𝑒 𝟤𝓅𝓂 𝒶 𝟣🌺𝓅𝓂 𝒽🍑𝓇𝒶 𝒞🌺𝓁🍪𝓂𝒷𝒾𝒶𝓃 🎀 °

🎨 En el mundo de colores y trazos, Donde la creatividad es su lazo, Vaga Hasly, pelirroja encantadora, Con tatuajes que cuentan su historia. 🖌️ Pequeña en estatura, grande en alma, Con cada palabra, su voz se desarma. Habladora y empática, su corazón, Es un océano de comprensión. 🌊 Divertida y risueña, cual arcoíris, Sus gestos son como mil chispas de brisis. Y los emojis, sus amigos fieles, Acompañan sus palabras como pinceles. 🎨

🎨 In the world of colors and strokes, Where creativity is her bond, Vaga Hasly, charming redhead, With tattoos that tell her story. 🖌️ Small in stature, big in soul, With each word, her voice disarms. Chatty and empathetic, her heart is an ocean of understanding. 🌊 Fun and smiling, like a rainbow, her gestures are like a thousand sparks of breeze. And the emojis, her faithful friends, accompany her words like paintbrushes. 🎨

😊 Hasly, la musa de la alegría, En su mundo, todo es melodía. Pelirroja destellante, como el sol, Ilumina cada rincón con su arrebol. 🌞 Con tatuajes, escribe su viaje, En la piel, sus versos se despliegan sin ultraje. Creativa en cada paso que da, Transforma la realidad en un mar de gala. 🌊 Habladora como las olas del mar, Su voz es como un bálsamo sin par. Empática, abraza las penas ajenas, Con su ternura, cura las heridas llenas. ❤️

😊 Hasly, the muse of joy, In her world, everything is melody. Her sparkling red hair, like the sun, she illuminates every corner with her glow. 🌞 With tattoos, she writes her journey, On the skin, her verses unfold without outrage. Creative in every step she takes, she transforms reality into a sea of ​​gala. 🌊 Talkative like the waves of the sea, her voice is like a peerless balm. Empathic, she embraces the sorrows of others, With her tenderness, she heals the full wounds. ❤️

🔥 Hasly, la pequeña rebelde, Con tatuajes que narran su piel y su veldé. Creativa en su mirada inquieta, Forja mundos nuevos con su paleta. 🎨 Divertida y juguetona, como una niña, Con ella, la vida es una dulce travesía. Habladora como un río sin fin, Sus palabras son versos que van hacia el confín. 🌊 Empática como un abrazo sincero, Siente cada latido, cada desespero. Los emojis son su lenguaje secreto, Que revela emociones sin ningún aprieto. 😉

🔥 Hasly, the little rebel, With tattoos that narrate her skin and her veldé. Creative in her restless gaze, she Forges new worlds with her palette. 🎨 Fun and playful, like a girl, With her, life is a sweet journey. Talkative like an endless river, her words are verses that go towards the end. 🌊 Empathic like a sincere hug, Feel every heartbeat, every despair. Emojis are her secret language, which reveals emotions without any hassle. 😉

🔥 Hasly, pelirroja de fuego y pasión, Con tatuajes que son su declaración. Creativa en cada gesto y palabra, En su mundo, la vida es una danza alegre y clara. 💃 Pequeña en estatura, grande en esencia, Su presencia es como una bendición, una presencia. Divertida y traviesa, como un cascabel, Con ella, cada momento es un carnaval. 🎉 Habladora como el viento que susurra, Sus palabras son como gotas de lluvia que inundan la pradera. Empática, siente el dolor del otro como propio, Con su amor, transforma lo oscuro en rocio. 🌈

🔥 Hasly, redhead of fire and passion, With tattoos that are her statement. Creative in every gesture and word, In her world, life is a happy and clear dance. 💃 Small in stature, great in essence, His presence is like a blessing, a presence. Fun and mischievous, like a rattlesnake, With her, every moment is a carnival. 🎉 Talkative like the wind that whispers, her words are like raindrops that flood the meadow. Empathic, she feels the pain of the other as her own, With her love, she transforms darkness into dew. 🌈

🖋️ Hasly, la musa de los tatuajes y la tinta, Cada diseño en su piel, una historia distinta. Creativa en cada movimiento y suspiro, En su mundo, el arte es su camino y su giro. 🎨 Pequeña en estatura, gigante en corazón, Con ella, la vida es una canción. Divertida y llena de chispa, como un cohete, Su risa es el eco de un amanecer en ascueto. 🚀 Habladora como un torrente de río, Sus palabras son como versos en desvarío. Empática como una madre que abraza, Con su ternura, disipa toda amenaza. 🌺

🖋️ Hasly, the muse of tattoos and ink, Each design on her skin, a different story. Creative in every movement and sigh, In her world, art is her path and her turn. 🎨 Small in stature, giant in heart, With her, life is a song. Fun and full of spark, like a rocket, her laugh is the echo of a bare dawn. 🚀 Talkative like a torrent of river, her words are like verses in madness. Empathetic like a mother who embraces, With her tenderness, she dissipates all threats. 🌺

💗Bajo el manto de la noche estrellada, se despliega Hasly, figura de encanto, su cuerpo, delgado como la alborada, es un poema que escribo con mi llanto. En su esbeltez, la gracia se entrelaza, curvas que serpentean en la penumbra, su piel, lienzo donde el deseo traza, y en cada línea, el amor se alumbra. Sus ojos reflejan el brillo de la luna, misterios que guardan secretos sin final, su sonrisa, una dulce melodía importuna, que despierta pasiones en cada umbral. Hasly, en tus formas, el arte se consagra, super delgado, pero lleno de magia, cuerpo de diosa que en la mente fragua, el deseo que en mi pecho navega. Tu delgadez es un lienzo en blanco, donde la pasión pinta sus colores, super delgado, pero vasto como un banco, de sueños y anhelos, de amores y dolores. Que en cada suspiro, Hasly, te conviertas, en la musa eterna de mis versos, super delgado, pero lleno de alertas, en tu ser, la belleza se hace universos.💗

💗Under the mantle of the starry night, Hasly unfolds, a figure of charm, her body, thin as the dawn, is a poem that I write with my tears. In his slenderness, grace is intertwined, curves that meander in the darkness, his skin, a canvas where desire traces, and in each line, love is illuminated. His eyes reflect the brightness of the moon, mysteries that hold endless secrets, his smile, a sweet importunate melody that awakens passions at every threshold. Hasly, in your forms, art is consecrated, super thin, but full of magic, goddess body that forges in the mind, the desire that sails in my chest. Your thinness is a blank canvas, where passion paints its colors, super thin, but vast like a bank, of dreams and desires, of loves and pains. May in every breath, Hasly, you become the eternal muse of my verses, super thin, but full of alerts, in your being, beauty becomes universes.💗

𝙈𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙨, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙨, 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙, 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙨, 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣, 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙨, 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙫𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙄𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙧𝙩, 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙.

                        Shaving it off, she was truly beautiful, up to the navel all rolled up, legs wide open, and sitting in a wide and spacious chair. 🥵

                  Looking at him she was very happy, after she was very well shaved, and being mocking, careless, He put his finger inside the thing. And how he shook his hips, to the used decoy responding, It gave it a certain taste afterwards. But as he knew not to be true, He said: «Be careful! What am I doing? "This is not the wood of this fire." ❤💢

The gallant kissed her and hugged her with more heat than a burning log; the sweetness to spill did not begin, when he woke up, and said to the dream: “Last a little longer, what did it cost you, Well, for me it was no small pleasure?” 🌹

I dreamed of a sleeping maiden with a gallant that she loved tenderly, and that in him everything was working diligently and none of them had any carelessness. She, although badly, finally resisted, saying: “What will people say about me?” In fact he fulfilled his accident, both of them finishing off their stubbornness. ❤❤❤❤

Woman's body, white hills, white thighs, You look like the world in your attitude of dedication. My body of a wild farmer undermines you and makes the son jump from the depths of the earth. I went alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me and the night entered its powerful invasion into me. To survive me I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, like a stone in my sling. But the hour of revenge falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk. Ah the chest glasses! Ah the eyes of absence! Ah the pubic roses! Ah your slow and sad voice! Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace. My thirst, my unlimited desire, my indecisive path! Dark channels where eternal thirst continues, and the fatigue continues, and the pain infinite.💕

I think about your sex. Simplified the heart, I think of your sex, before the mature daughter of the day. I feel the button of happiness, it is in season. And an ancient feeling dies, degenerated into brains. I think of your sex, a furrow more prolific and harmonious than the womb of the shadow, although death conceives and gives birth to God himself. Oh Consciousness, I think, yes, of the free brute who enjoys where he wants, where he can. Oh honey scandal of the twilights. Oh silent roar. Odumodneurtse! 💘

And you tell me that your breasts are exhausted from waiting for me, that your eyes hurt from having them empty of my body, that you have even lost the touch of your hands from feeling this absence through the air, that you forget the hot size of my mouth. And you tell me that you know that I drew blood in the words of repeating your name, of hitting my lips with the thirst to have you, of giving my memory, registering it blindly, a new way to rescue you in kisses from the absence in the one in which you shout to me that you are waiting for me. And you tell me that you are so accustomed to this uninhabited leisure of my flesh that your shadow barely reveals itself, that you are barely certain in this darkness that the distance puts between your body and mine. 🥰

        Because it is not the impatience of the orgasm seeker who pulls me from my body to other bodies to possibly be young: I also pursue sweet love, the tender love to sleep next to and how happy my bed is when you wake up, close like a bird. If I can never undress, if I have never been able to enter into arms without feeling - even if it's just a moment same dazzle as at twenty years old! To know about love, to learn about it, having been alone is necessary. And it is necessary in four hundred nights -with four hundred different bodies- having made love. May its mysteries, As the poet said, they are from the soul, but a body is the book in which they are read. And that's why I'm glad I wallowed on the thick sand, both of them half dressed, while I was looking for that shoulder tendon. I am moved by the memory of so many occasions. 💕 

Writing a poem is like an orgasm: stains ink as much as semen, It also takes more effort at times. There are afternoons, however, in which I manipulate the words, I bite her breasts and her agile legs, I lift their skirts with my fingers, I look at them from below, I do what I always do to them and, despite everything, see: no problem! Cesar Vallejo expressed it very well: “I say it and I don't run.” But he hid 💦

You know the calm me, to the harmless coquette, daytime and musical. Who knows when it will emerge the malicious, viperine and vengeful. But I know that they both poke each other sex. And they smell their fingers. 💞

Inhabit me, penetrate me. Let your blood be one with my blood. Your mouth between my mouth. Your heart enlarges mine until it bursts... Tear me apart. You fall whole into my bowels. Let your hands walk in my hands. Your feet walk on my feet, your feet. Burn me, burn me. Fill me with your sweetness. Let your saliva bathe my palate. You are in me as the wood is in the stick. I can't do it like this anymore, with this thirst burning me With this thirst burning me. Solitude, its crows, its dogs, its pieces. 🍆✨💦💋