At the height of perishable things the piano becomes a trumpet on the curls of her hair crossed looks to the face with the winged rays. Support language like a moth flow the notes to the room of romances so that he remembers. The arms revealed on this black dress go through life on the canvas of fluttes agasses the song suddenly springs up on the table of torments.
Let's not despise in the shade of the tamarisk so blinded by light I hurt you escapes the cry of a link to be reborn. 414