Plows For Honda Pilots

whispers me with the night-fuse

foot will be me, do not know, traitors, move at any pace. Individual to a quarter past three unravels their language and tells me I do not know who animated tale of yesterday and today. Nod, two, three, four ... twelve times. I long to silence a drag and take the hint. I'm not, I'm not, no! A while ago I decided to leave, that still there is half that wished to accompany me, that which is endless and extends from one end to night to dawn of the day.


At least I hope and I want more I see before me.

you lean , no, not you, me, I need to find balance and dignity. Too many things at once, choose the first supporting my hip in an imaginary wall. I say, go home, Bonica but I have no case. As you approach the speech test, knowing that nothing of what I think will be told (not by you, or me). Kiss me, you smell, smile, smile back, hold me, slip my head on your shoulder, close my eyes and I get on your wheel. From lost to the fair.

But it was not you, I thought that already existed.
Where are you hiding? Next you the stay.