terça-feira, 9 de julho de 2013
domingo, 7 de julho de 2013
A cold winter morning he says he loves me.
The cold of winter can warm every heart in the world.
Nothing made sense to me, I could hear my heart beating fast when you see the image of angelic being.
I realized I was in love when I felt that emotion was more than reason
My vision became blind, my line went dead, my mouth dry and my senses were no longer normal.
It would be possible to a woman so beautiful and so special to love someone who could offer nothing except the body and soul for her.
On an autumn afternoon she said she loves me.
But the change of season makes hearts become more sensitive
I think I'll live another minute of this glory, my soul no longer responds, looks like I'm running away from my body.
It would just be a dream of a madman or would just love the thrill of being loved by a goddess venus.
In an afternoon blossom spring she says she loves me.
But spring is all hearts become prone to love
the beauty of flowers is like a postcard to anyone who loves and one more time to question my reason is she the goddess of dreams of any mortal was my real
One summer night she says she loves me.
The sun and its heat does not shine as much as the look of my beloved
At this time my reason to question my emotion, will be that she loves me or is it just a love of stations
The woman, the mistress of our destiny for a few minutes I come to think that women are beings from another planet.
The woman bleeds every month, the woman is able to generate a life, a woman is able to die to save those she loves.
The woman dreams when reality takes every possibility of living one single dream.
The woman is fairy wish-fulfilling
The woman is goddess able to help you in difficult times
The woman is the queen of a kingdom of her own
The woman speaks without uttering a single word
The woman wants without wanting.
The woman is dreaming.
The woman is smiling
The woman makes love
My doubt is who or where they came from women who are as utopian, emblematic, complex and higher.
It is not love, can not love me who makes me cry, can not love me does not see in the picture of