Your perfume. The cloud of odors and cheiros sobrevoou olfatos. Foam of waves had fallen on the sand and in it gave the goddess to them of the glory. The perpetual souvenir of the happiness. Sighs and desires pairaram on the life. The life desired to stop to see the ticket Of the perfume arrebatou that me it shrank and me to a simple existence. Existence that lived in the touchs of soft fingers Fingers that had remembered to mine other lives and promises to me Happinesses kept under the captivity of the tato.
Smoothness. Hidden affections. Touched petals. Flowers deceased that live in the smoothness of its tenuous leves Petals of the simplicity of the diva woman. The touch, the perfume, the smoothness under masks of absent eyes. Eyes that run away. Touchs that are.
The soft perfume that hangs. The hands of the life stop. The dreams if carry through in the absence of the time. Soft it is not at night. It is only the surplus of an absence. Absence of the perfume that enevoou the pearl race without wire. That as wild waterfalls tambores rufam of crystalline water-dreams. Dreams of touchs, perfumes and pearls.