The House

The day already gives the air of the favour. Eight and fifteen. It came back toward the room and without making the minimum racket not to wake up it, it was dressed and it left. It kissed before it of light in the face, that still printed the scar, that after some plastic surgeries already became more tenuous and almost imperceptible. The employees of the house, already had provided the coffee of the morning. He has four years more than, every day made the first meal of the day, solitary and with its thoughts.

Then later, he took the coffee for the room. Always with a rose. A color for each day of the week and in the sunday a branch of colorful roses. then? It slept well? It wants to take the juice first or it wants beaten yoghurt? She is prettier to each day that passes. Goodness its.

They are its eyes that see thus me. Not. It is not truth. I see it as in the same way and way as the vi of the first time in my life. Ah, it wants to say that I am for you, the queen of the black cocada one, n? Nor in such a way. Today you are my cocada one, my love. thus love oaths of and delicate little kiss were melted between, that many times finished in something hotter and pleasant. The last times. The time of the one before. The time of the one later. Of the one before it are of certain form convulsionado for the desires not only to win the barriers imposed for the way where they lived, but for the inexperincia of market, of administration, but that it compensated with the hours of affection and love that enjoyed. Many times arrived to lose the notion of the time, involved in abraos, kisses and caresses.