The bronzed set which loads the lips.
When you left, I opened the drawers, appliquéd.
The glass was stained clear and the skin on a string.
French brassiere d,
black crotchless panties, I under stood, opened up.
It they have brightly red lips, the sky you have opened.
From the mouth all the way up to the back of the neck.
Having one thing byes us to remember whose to many,
exactly are when green, very tasteful!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem