are those nights where I understand nothing. Makes me want to die of cold, do not stop kissing. Not off you. Of feeling. Are those nights where I could die of cold, cold more than I could die for you. Of the desire I have for you. The constant is no way off of you. In live you all hours in this city is ours, although you do not like, and I can not stop walking and to rediscover.
Paris
You are my favorite. You are my favorite God. You're my favorite kiss. My favorite night.
are those nights where you left eyebrow is hanging in the air. Where black birds appear to me in the corners of the matches. Nights
intermediate. Reason. Principles. Nights where I walk with the road and collided with all our illusions.
are those nights where you are my favorite Paris. You are my favorite God. You're my favorite kiss. My favorite night.
I still want you to die or die of cold.
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