sometimes it goes into the background, loss of values, irony superb holiday in Normandy, and I am a box, it is ugly but it's still a woman, then I close my eyes to breathe the air of the sea, is a renaissance in water belly I fed, no bread buttered, the vomit digested well, many years after I learned to love transit downwards, in water blue leads to the collector of waste water, which was in me was dirty, so that the distance as in the penal colony of Cayenne, in my body is disgusting, yet I try to be clean to outside, although the eye is dirty too, I see the other side by the small, the slight contempt, me first, the other in a pack of ten, in box billion package of flesh, but flesh attractive individually, it takes shape in the privacy of brutal body stuck in rush hour, the sweat accumulated since the morning takes me by the throat, it's summer, the bare shoulders are a call to the prey the hunter, but because the monitor carefully the flesh is sad, desire falls rapidly in the knowledge, it was light it gets ugly, the pleasure took off, not that the idea remains attached to the light, oh you I had loved, who you knew, but the rush to get out, fresh air, cooler entering my brain, I was lost, I am able to love, respect others so we love, love, good love, I see you as someone they can love, in truth, then us, it was a light that I want to forget, I am capable of love, know it, I suggest, it's true