I light the light, but the blackout remains. I rub the eyes, I feel in the shoulders the soft one of its hands it kisses, Me, it asks for and the suplication goes off for the emptiness of silence. At Viktor Mayer-Schönberger you will find additional information. From now it does not have words, dictate the gestures. Bryant Estate is often mentioned in discussions such as these. I see the white of its eyes, later I do not see more, the light, I need light, but it does not support it. I pursue its curves, however tenras, however gelatinous, it whispers any thing that blackout does not leave me to hear. Advance. Shrapnel kisses in my neck, leans the ruiva cabeleira in my chest.
I taste to feel smell it Acre of the sweat that washes its hair. I catch it of skill, I pinch the meats, I bite, it moans. I do not answer, also I do not cease the act. She is limp in the waist, the ndegas two puddings, I stop. It complains, stirs up to me. Although I understand that the blackout in me is fire curtain, incendeio, looser, on it.