Snow...
It is the first time that I see Ca: snow! Mrs Croquette took to me in her arms and posed to me on the edge of the window of roof: impressing. At one time, I wanted to go to trott me on the roof but it firmly caught me and I acknowledge that I did not want to start again.I found the repertory where it put its photographs, I join some low.With share Ca, Mrs Croquette began a new book, it is insane what it passes like time to read. I recopied a passage, just some lines:
"the Winter, we will go in a small pink coachWith blue cushions.We will be well. A nest of insane kisses restsIn each marrowy corner."
I stop there, I can right statement that it is of certain Arthur Rimbaud. Do not know. I wait until it speaks about it with her girlfriends, history that I include/understand something there. The only trick that she to me said, when one looked at snow falling on the roofs, it is that times, poetry, it is deep and as of time it is light, and that in this moment, she seeks a little light things, to divert its attention and its emotions: a history of Asia, tidal wave, very not included/understood, but with the sound of his voice, I have make velvet leg on his cheek.