Why no grammar or rule pollutes more than the senses.
Now that it's always day, which is always wave .... which is very sea, I do not need. I desire and calmly striped skin, sores in loving. Now pain is not an omen, but a dense attitude. And you walk, you smell, you smell, you drink and you eat me up like no one could do, with the consent of the night. Take possiedimi and finally, is the day! Do not forget of course our love you, love you.
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