Lo que me excitaIt always turn me a man who is ready to do anything to make me laugh. Also I like a sociable and respectful man. So please don't be shy and say hello, because i want to be your virtual friend and more. No me excita People with bad manners and with a greedy attitude. Posición preferida doggystyle, ride, anal, oral, all of them
}Neither souvenirs nor presages: just present, in chantant. Neither silence nor mots: your voice, only, only, speaking to me. Neither hands nor lips: just two bodies, far away, separated. Neither light nor darkness, eyes nor sight, vision, the vision of the soul. And finally, neither pleasure nor sorrow, neither heaven nor earth, neither above nor below, neither life nor death, nothing but love, nothing but love..
When I see thee pass, O my dear, indolent, To the song of the instruments that break on the ceiling, Suspending thy harmonious and slow gait, And wandering the weariness of thy deep gaze; When I contemplate, by the fires of the gas that colours it, Your pale brow, beautified by a morbid attraction, Where the evening torches light up a dawn, And your eyes attractive as those of a portrait, I say to myself: How beautiful it is! and oddly fresh! The massive, regal and heavy memory, The crown, and his heart, bruised as a peach, Is ripe, like his body, for the learned love. Are you the autumn fruit with sovereign flavours? Are you a funeral vessel waiting for a few tears, a perfume that makes you dream of distant oases, a caressing pillow, or a basket of flowers? I know that there are eyes, the most melancholy, that conceal no precious secrets; Beautiful caskets without jewels, medallions without relics, Emptier, deeper than yourselves, O Heavens! But is it not enough that you are the appearance, To gladden a heart that flees from the truth? What does it matter how stupid or indifferent you are? Mask or décor, hello! I love your beauty.
I told you for the clouds I told you for the sea tree For the eyes that become face or landscape And the sleep that rends the sky of its colour Pour toute la nuit bue Pour la grille des routes Pour la fenêtre ouverte pour un front découvert I told you for your thoughts for your words ♪ All you need is a little faith ♪
L'homme est la plus élevée des créatures; la femme is the most sublime of the ideals. God made for man a throne, for woman an altar.. The throne exalts; the altar sanctifies. L'homme est le cerveau, the woman is the heart. The brain makes the light, the heart produces the love.. The light is fruitful, the love rises. L'homme est fort par la raison; la femme is invincible by the tears. The reason convinces; the tears move. L'homme est capable de tous les héroïsmes; the femme of all the martyrs. The heroism ennobled; the martyr sublime. L'homme à la suprématie; the femme the preference. The supremacy means the force; the preference represents the right. L'homme is a genius, the femme is an angel. The genius is immeasurable, the angel is indefinable.. The aspiration of the man is the supreme glory, the aspiration of the woman is the extreme virtue.. Glory makes all that is great; virtue makes all that is divine.. L'homme is a Code; the femme is an Evangile. The man thinks, the woman thinks.. To think is to have a larva's head, to think is to have a halo's forehead.. L'homme is an ocean; la femme is a lake. The ocean, the pearl that adorns, the lake, the poetry that illuminates. L'homme is an eagle who flies; la femme is the rossignol who sings. To fly is to dominate space, to sing is to conquer the soul.. L'homme is a temple; la femme is the sanctuary. Before the Temple we discover; before the Sanctuary we lie down. Enfin: l'homme est placé où finit la terre; la femme où commence le ciel. The man is placed where the earth ends, the woman where the sky begins. ».
Je vous propose parmi les grappes, les segments verts et les roses, Mon cœur naïf qui s'humilie devant ta bonté; Thy loving hands do not want to destroy him, Thy eyes are rejoicing in my simple gift. In the shadow of the garden my body is tired, the auras of the morning covered with rose;. When the divine storm is quiet in my tempes, I'll stretch out, playing with your thick locks, on your wedding day, my front is sleeping,.
Aimer est ce silence timid près de toi, sans que tu le saches, et souviens-toi de ta voix quand tu pars et ressent le chaleur de votre salutation. I love you when you are silent and shy, and I love you when you are silent. To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the couch of sun, neither before nor after, for we are alone among games and stories on the land of the dead..
Bless be the year, the point, the day, the season, the place, the month, the hour and the country in which he makes beau regarde enchaîné à mon âme. Blessed be the most sweet persistence to abandon me to this love that lives in my soul, and the bow and arrows, from which now the wounds seem to be open again.. Blessed be the words with which I sing the name of my beloved; and my torment, my anguish, my soupirs and my tears. Well, they're in the font of my praise and, finally, my thought, because she doesn't want me to share it..
I wish I didn't wish to love you, but if I turn away from you, I'm really sorry to leave you. If I demand of you a reward in payment for my services, jours pour toi pour les avantages le chagrin, la douleur et la passion, pour plus d'inconsolation. If I demand of you a reward in payment for my services, jours pour toi pour les avantages le chagrin, la douleur et la passion, pour plus de inconsolation. If I demand of you a reward in payment for my services, jours pour toi pour les avantages le chagrin, la douleur et la passion, pour plus de inconsolation. If I demand of you a reward in payment for my services, jours pour vous pour les avantages le chagrin, la douleur et la passion, pour plus de inconsolation. And I can't dislike you even if I turn away from you, and if I think I don't love you? I'm really sorry to leave you. I forget to forget you..
I've already abandoned everything and I've said and it's like that I've changed, qui est mon bien-aimé pour moi, et je suis pour mon bien-aimé. When the chasseur doux threw me and left me exhausted, dans les bras de l'amour my soul was fallen. And take a new life, that's how I've exchanged qui est mon bien-aimé pour moi, and je suis pour mon bien-aimé. He wounded me with an arrow of love, and my soul was made one with its Creator, I want no more of another love, because I gave myself to my God, and my beloved is for me, and I am for my beloved..
No, cela ne sépare pas deux âmes aimantes case défavorable ni entêtement cruel: L'amour ne diminue jamais ni ne dévie, et c'est un et sans change à toute heure. It is not a matter of love, but of love, and it is not a matter of love.. It's a marvel that the roaring storms with the still rays defy it; star fixed that guides the ships; you measure its height, but you ignore its essence. L'amour ne suit pas le courant éphémère de l'âge, qui défait les couleurs des lèvres et des joues fleuries. L'amour does not follow the flow of the age, which defeats the colours of the lips and the flowery joys.. You are eternal, Love: if that were not my life, I did not feel your ardor, I didn't even know how to understand your wonders.
A love beyond love, above the rite of bonding, beyond the sinister game of solitude and companionship. A love that doesn't need a return, but not a game either. A love not mastered by the flashes of coming and going, being awake or asleep, calling or keeping silent. A love to be together Or not to be but also for all intermediate positions. A love like opening your eyes. And maybe also how to close them.
I can't even live in your absence, I can't even see when I see you, this desire for the world is not not more than this consumes my existence.. I am the snow in your presence and a volcano far from you, and you have such power over me, that I doubted when I saw you if it was love or death what I felt in my soul.. How to live in your absence, if I do not deserve hell, this desire is an eternal fire and me, mortal existence? If I have lost the knowledge of time and reason, if life is my prison! What's the agency for? If I no longer have my own heart? If I think to your reason, if I breathe with your breath, yes, your thoughts and my thoughts, I've melted my passion into one, if my heart doubts where I'm staying, if I doubted goodbye between staying and leaving, because I don't know how to define,!…
The flower, the cell, the beautiful leaves, the delicate cup, the one that turns in the morning, are intoxicating perfume.. You who are born in the grass, and you hide always in it, you are the most beautiful image that represents l'amour. Pas à ce ravissement et aveugle who sometimes la lèvre ment, mais au timid, who feels a sensitive heart. To this love that inspires us a being that our soul adores, and yet ignores our passion burning.. But alas, one day he will sell us the fire of a look like his delicate essence. Thanks to her I discover you among the hidden grass, you are my favorite flower image of a tender love.
Oh, this thirst for tenderness that dries my mouth, and that's putting this mad fever in my soul! Oh, this burning desire to feel loved, sans penser à the deep bitterness of life! .. Oh, this endless desire to feel cradled with the sweet caress of a sweet look! .. Oh, this bitter sadness to know that the chardons of my course, I can't transform them into tubers! And wear the whiteness of the lily in your soul! And live with the flame that consumes the candles! And you are a star, you are a bird, you are a perfume, you are a trinité, and you have to cross the route, I don't know!
You have no person to kiss your scarlet lips, nor who shrinks your elastic waist, says your look. You have no one to love you, you have no one to introduce yourself.. Ton regard says that la nuit, seul, tu soupires et dis dans l'ombre chaude les choses terribles. It is the night, alone, your soupires and say in the hot sun, you are terrible... Les choses de l'amour que personne n'a entendu, those that are said to those who love well vers quatre heures. Vers quatre heures du matin, when a little cold invades the chambre and the dawn rises. When I lie down, tired and alone, I think of your big lips, your hair and your black eyes..
He plays with a hand lighter. You are alone, you are well. Toutes les choses à travers ses yeux All these things are in your eyes. A cardinal is rouge. The sky is blue. Suddenly, you know that he knows you too. It's not there but you know they're enjoying the winter or a lighter spring.. Sa main pour tenir la vôtre, it is too. Too many things to support. You can 't see anything except your eyes because your pulse shouldn 't say it.. When the steel carries you free with a frightening freedom. You are a moitié belle d'une blessure dorée. Recupérez et codaz votre boîte to speak, to whisper. Oh when your grandfather is a certain death! Oh when you express it is hypnotiser, pour la voir, the Colonne d'Or, dans les plus courants.
Nous, peu habitués au courage exilés du plaisir crouched in the shell of solitude until l'amour descends from its temple sacré et apparaît sous nos yeux pour nous libérer de la vie. l'amour vient et l'extase arrive dans leur train old souvenirs of joy old stories of pain. And if we are bold, love begins for our souls the chains of fear.. In the heat of the light of love we abandon our timidity we dare to be brave and suddenly we see this love that we cost everything that we are and everything that we can be. And yet it is love that sets us free. 5. L'amour existe, by Cristina Peri Rossi L'amour exists comme un feu brûler dans sa beauté toute la laideur du monde L'amour exists like a fire burning in the beauty of the world. Love exists as a gift from the blessed goddess to those who love beauty and multiply it, like the breads and the fishes.. Love exists as a gift only for those who wish to resign to all other gifts.. Love exists to inhabit the world as if it were a paradise.. Love exists for the clock to explode long becomes short and short and infinite and beauty erases the ugliness of the world..
It's love. I'll have to hide or run. The walls of his prison grow, like a horrible dream.. Le beau masque a changé, mais comme toujours c'est le seul. The beautiful masque is changed, but as always it is the only one.. A quoi me serviront mes talismans: The exercise of letters, the vague erudition, the apprenticeship of the words which the rude Nord used to sing his seas and his swords, the serenity of friendship, the galleries of the library, the common things, the habits, the young love of my mother, the military shadow of my dead, the timeless night, What is it? >To be with you or not to be with you is the measure of my time. Now the crutch breaks on the fountain, now the man raises the voice of the bird, those who look out the windows are already astonished, but the shadow has not brought peace.. It's, I know, l'amour: the anxiety and the relief of hearing your voice, the expectation and the memory, the horror of living in the future.. C'est l'amour avec ses mythologies, with his useless little magic. There's a coin I dare not cross. From now on the armies are closing in, the hordes. (This piece is unreal; she hasn't seen it. The name of a woman betrays me.. Une femme me fait mal sur tout le corps is a woman who makes me sick..
Sometimes, when we fall in love with trees, we see the strength of their branches and the sweetness of their fruit.. It happens also, sometimes, that the tree that we love becomes a man and we love his ideas his lips your heart your arms or his sex.). And it comes later, sometimes, that the tree we love is so near, it's incredibly frightening. Il arrive alors, parfois, qu'on ne sait pas I close my eyes and hide or contemplate l'arbre-homme-soleil until he becomes blind.
from what the Big Bang loved the universe like a worm was all I needed to write the history of space and time and everything counts (and everything more importantly) as our love and I don't know if it was the case born of an atom or Adam I only know that when we met a big bang shook my ribs like an atomic bomb stronger than the first heartbeat so high that I covered my ears and pressed my chest and I closed my eyes but your voice I transformed my darkness at dawn and in my eyes They opened up even more each time word and maybe you asked me if I felt well, or maybe you told me your name but all I heard say "let it be done" light".
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