My wall macht des bruits bizarros.
English German French Portuguese.
I slept on a bed yesterday with a boy.
And I saw a beautiful-looking boy all last night.
With a great smile with a big gap right between his two front teeth.
He had short oily dark grey-brown hair.
He had beautiful eyebrow ridges so that, from certain angles, they covered the presence of his eyelids... ever so gracefully, oh, ever so handsomely, angles juxtaposed ever so originally and successfully. It was so from this angle, his dark brown irises slipped mysteriously, provocatively from behind his eyebrow ridges, like a woman's sculpted breast, half revealed from behind her clothing. And more, shading his timid irises were his straight eyelashes - like the shadow between the breasts.
Freckles on his neck, behind his ears - beauty marks, they are in fact. Intermittent, deep brown, strategically placed, amongst the ridges in his neck that undulate when he moves. I want to eat his beauty marks.
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