What Are Some Good Adult Shows

Clof, clof

Way on the leaves.
Clof, clof.
behind me the noise is different, other than that I feel under my feet. And the skirt rustles
carrying small pieces of dead branches.
Behind the noise of flowing water.
walk through the bare trees.
I go under the black clouds closed.
All is quiet.
Way stillness of my hand.
Clof, clof.
I turn.
I see.
I see over the figs. The
cola sky.
is poured on the ground. Falls right before my eyes.
is a wall of water.
evaporates.
is there, beyond the last plant that barely holds its leaves, that's where it rains.
thick.
lines are horizontal.
down.
Sfrusciano.
roar.
close my eyes.
The image disappears.
is in my nostrils.
You smell of dead leaves soaked in water.
is wet, damp smell.
Denso.
too dense.
I might lose my balance.
Porto head back.
The neck bends. The head weighs
.
The neck bends.
lips unfold.
Sete. Among
lips split.
Sete.
enters the nose moist.
From the mouth of the hot salt body.

Casual-cocktail Party Attire

impotent

When I pass a peach flower I can not help but stop and stare, until I feel myself become a part of that branch.
Until I know that a pink flower is becoming, slowly, the complexion of the cheeks and the stamens are the wheel of my irises.
I let my breath and I aspire to become scent to the nose, mouth, sucks with all the pores of the skin.
and exudes the mood of the fish.
rest with fingers spread and his arms as hard as wood.
I do not know if when you paint flowers, you become stessi fiori; se i vostri occhi si trasformano in petali o in gambi, se la rugiada cola sul vostro viso, non come lacrime, ma come brina vera; io vi assicuro che, se scrivo del mare, divento io stessa risacca e si trasformano i miei capelli ed i miei piedi in coralli lividi d'apnea.
Forse pensate che io stia ammattendo, ma vi assicuro che è così.
È così.
Sento che ciò che vedo mi rende diversa; sento di non poter guadare la danza della farfalla bianca senza avvertire che dalla mia schiena con forza quelle ali, da lame sottili, tagliano per uscire, squarciano tra pelle e ossa, ledono tendini e, miracolosamente, non senza dolore, spuntano.
E s'aprono.
E sbattono come ventagli indiani.
I get the beating of wings and butterfly chrysalis.
The beat of my heart s'amplifica with going for flowers and flowers of the white butterfly.
same torments I flipped to chase other butterflies, pushing them to roll it into the air.
And I write, I have to pin it on paper as an embroidery.
up to scratch with excitation will affect the paper.
I do not know who crushes black ants on the staves, that will change in music, I feel this same yearning for concern.
not really know what I seize, but only if I lie down under the olive trees, there, where the branches touch the ground and show the fruits of blacks, the fruits become the tips of my breasts, the fruits are the nails and the tips of my hand.
I approach the lips.
slide them on the edge of the mouth and rub them to play with.
I have to take the oval fruit with his tongue.
I lick the olive oil.
I want to have hard between his teeth to the point of feeling all bitter, which flows inside me.
And the bird that jumps, I really do not know if these are not my eyes going up and down as animal soaked heart.
I do not know if when I stop to watch the fig leaf that sprouts from the branch of aluminum, I can not take your eyes off, I do not know why, but I think the palm of my hand with the lines of life, the mountains, stars.
and cruises.
and wrinkles.
The fig tree that splits into droplets of sugar lucente è l'inguine schiuso al sole.
Ne sento l'odore dolce del tutto simile al mio.
La grossa infiorescenza profuma.
È un richiamo irresistibile per le narici. Sa di frutta matura: è odore delle foglie morbide e pelose, è essenza di lattice; ha sentore dei rami secchi bruciati, del frutto essiccato, di mandarino e lauro e noci.
Avverto la nota liquorosa.
Ogni cosa attira i miei occhi ed in ogni cosa io mi muto.
E dei gelsi neri ho il succo scarlatto a macchiare di sangue e tatuaggio la pelle.
E le punte intrise delle dita sono coccinelle che prendono il volo.
Dei miei capelli è il rosso delle rose e le spine, si, le spine... le spine sono il groviglio delle mie vene irrorate di linfa.
E le carrube pendule?
Ah, quelle brune carrube d'ebano sono certo le dita che arpeggiano le corde dell'aria.
Ne sento il tintinnare.
E non sono forse conchiglie le mie orecchie?
Non vi paiono davvero simili? Direi gemelle fatte per udire il suono del mare e del vento.
Sono nacchere di gitane, uguali e complementari.
E se questo mio discorso può apparvi strano, io vi assicuro che così in me riecheggia ogni spicchio di natura.
Come una spugna gocciolante intrisa di cielo, la felicità mi entra dalla bocca fino a quando l'eccitazione mi toglie il fiato e il pianto mi cola dagli occhi.

Large Pillows For Sofas

The story of Ross and the fourteen

Dei più remoti che aveva avuto da bambina, non ne aveva più ricordo. Ma da quando sua madre le diede quello che prese per essere uscita con Andrea, cominciò -e credetemi non so il perché- a contarli.
“E uno!”. Si disse Rossella e si chiuse nella sua stanza, sbattendo la porta.
Passarono un paio di mesi e ricevette il secondo: “e due!”; contò Rossella. Questo secondo, però bruciava molto di più del primo e lo ricevette proprio da Andrea quando cominciava a piacere anche a sua madre, ma difficilmente i gusti tra madre e figlia coincidono, anche se ci sono sempre le eccezioni.
Ed infatti fu allora che Rossella pensò che Mario non le avrebbe mai dato uno schiaffo. Ma si sbagliava: in capo ad altri two months, just Mario - former partner of his mother - gave her the third.
was when Scarlett to take a shower, forgot, on the night of Mario, the mobile phone text messages full of helium. "And three." Ross counted and clothed. left the house and headed by Elio Mario while Mario yelled something that ended with your mother ....
Elio was his employer and Ross usually called him Dr. Rinaldi.
Dr. Rinaldi, said the dentist, had a studio in the Via Condotti.
for about fifteen days, Ross began working for him and now Dr. Rinaldi had filled her with attention.
Elio Rinaldi was the one that usually defines a good match and it was anche un bell'uomo intraprendente.
Aveva uno di quei sorrisi tipici da dentista: un sorriso aperto, convincente e bianchissimo.
Sembrava la pubblicità ambulante di un dentifricio.
Rossella, però, pur non gradendo le sue attenzioni, non poteva cancellare i suoi messaggi dal cellulare.
È che – credetemi- li trovava divertenti.
Ed infatti lo erano; peccato che Mario non avesse un buon senso dell'umorismo, altrimenti ne avrebbe sorriso anche lui e probabilmente non le avrebbe dato quello schiaffo.
No, ma pensateci, come si fa a non divertirsi leggendo: “Sul tuo cellulale abbiamo lilevato un vilus inteldentale cinese ad alto lischio. Se non sollidelai pensandomi, il cellulale non ti squillelà never again. "?
Ross went to Elio, because it was time to open the study.
certainly would never have expected to meet the person he met.
Well, it was just a meeting, to be more precise I would describe it as a confrontation, it was because of this.
fact, the first patient - some believe that we should try a synonym, came shortly after the study, but Dr. Rinaldi, not yet in sight.
The patient, a little old lady with a pink sweater, soon became impatient and began to rant against Ross, who made the mistake of getting too close and so he gets an unexpected quarter slap.
"And four!" disse fra sé, Rossella, ma ne dovette contare altri tre prima che arrivasse il dottor Rinaldi per ripristinare l'ordine e la calma. La vecchina con il golfino rosa divenne tutta un sorriso-dentiera alla vista del dottorino ed insieme –sottobraccio– entrarono nell'ambulatorio.
A Rossella non restò che dirsi: “e sette!”.
Fu a quel punto che nella sua testa balenò un motto: “dente per dente!”. Forse l'influenzò il fatto di trovarsi in uno studio dentistico, forse fu per puro caso che iniziò a riflettere sul fatto di avere sviluppato una gran faccia da schiaffi, certo è, che -vi assicuro- Rossella cominciò a tramare vendetta.
Tramava così bene che appena la vecchina con il golfino rosa ed il sorriso-dentiera uscì dall'ambulatorio, Rossella le mollò subito tre schiaffetti (in verità poco più che buffetti), che comunque alla malcapitata dovettero sembrare un vero e proprio attentato.
“E tre!” urlò con un super sorriso Rossella, mentre la vecchina si rifugiava tra le braccia del dottor Rinaldi.
Poi Rossella si diede alla fuga – mi sono sempre chiesta perché si dica così, mah, comunque-.
Percorse tutta la strada a ritroso e tornò da Mario.
Non potete immaginare la sua gioia quando a casa di Mario trovò anche sua madre.
Prese a sberle i due piccioni con una mano.
“E quattro! E cinque! E sei!” urlava, but prior to the seventh remembered Andrea.
The first love-it is really true-you never forget, and then came out of that house-alcove and headed quickly towards the house of Andrea.
Fate would have it, Andrea is located elsewhere.
(This is to me to have more time to find a decent final!).
So Scarlett tried elsewhere and in other places near and far, known and unknown, but there was no sign of Andrew.
There was not even a clue-and-think the cell phone said: "The person you called is not reachable at the time ...".
This thing was going to beast Ross and more than anything else, itching hands. A beast
con le mani che prudono -si sa- può diventare anche molto pericolosa e Rossella forse lo era o avrebbe potuto esserlo, senonché...Rossella vide Andrea.
Andrea era di spalle, ma Rossella era certa che fosse lui.
Andrea nascondeva un fascio di fiori dietro la schiena e quindi era ben visibile da Rossella.
E, infine, Andrea era sotto casa di Rossella.
In quel preciso momento a Rossella venne in mente il motivo dello schiaffo preso da Andrea.
Il motivo –so che voi vorreste saperlo almeno quanto vorrei saperlo io- non era certo un futile motivo, ma era sicuramente un motivo molto importante.
Tanto da fare ammettere alla stessa Rossella di aver avuto torto marcio -anche di questo aggettivo mi sono sempre chiesta il perché-.
She saw before her eyes the whole scene, but alas no sound and accepted that he had been wrong.
It was then that he decided to approach the shoulders of Andrew, to give him a treat.
But Andrew, who had always had quick reflexes, she felt a suspicion behind him and spun around, letting go of Scarlett a resounding slap.
Ross did a quick calculation and said to himself, "and fourteen."
Then, since we know that when women are happy cry, Ross and Andrea began to sob, having recognized, was profuse in a sea of \u200b\u200bexcuses and offered her flowers.
At that moment their eyes met - and what happened had to happen, that is, Okay, the two-kissed and lived happily ever after and happy!

Upscale Shoe Boutiques

you slap me take you home?

A girl without a shadow had been seen at night in the parking bay Trentova. Biagio was not alone, the woman next to him was a married, had gone there to apartments a bit ': it was the interview of an August night between strangers met by chance in a bar. She still had to pull down her skirt wrinkled and he buttoned the flap of his trousers, and ended with a cigarette while driving, had visto chiaramente scomparire la bambina davanti ai loro occhi. Si era dissolta nella luce dei fari appena accesi.

La retromarcia era stata veloce, velocissima ed una nuvola di terra e sabbia aveva ricoperto la macchina che tornava da dove era arrivata, imponendo la chiusura dei finestrini ai viaggiatori.

La radio era accesa e, d’un tratto, una voce aggiornava il notiziario locale sulle ultime novità sul fantasma di Trentova.

Il comunicato parlava di registrazioni notturne e di un pianto.

Biagio non era a conoscenza di quella notizia e, dopo averne atteso la end with a sudden gesture, turned off the radio.

parked the car. The woman looked at him in silence.

He stared for a moment.

A faint hissing sound was heard. Came from the back seat, looking like a sigh. One of those sighs that children do when they pull up his nose, while they cry.

Biagio wanted to turn around: he felt a dip in the blood.

The woman put her hand on the door and tried to move a handle and pulled.

The shutter did not open the car: the door was locked.

He tried to open his hand and nothing: you could not get out.

He put in the car and began to run.

was heading fast towards the barracks. At the crossroads, tried to swerve, but the car felt driven and ran even faster.

Biagio wanted to approach, but the car did not respond to commands, then tried to turn it off, without success.

The car sped into the night and left the center town and taking the old road, went up Torchiara.

A series of curves of the car was swallowed up in the race.

Biagio turned on the radio: his hands were sticky and sweaty.

There was pop music.

Then there was a noise like interference, a whisper ... whisper ... crying.

He turned off the radio, pressing on the keys like a madman: the plants continue to come out from the speakers.

The car sped into the night and passed Cemetery Prignano, the center of a circle with Sant'Antuono and take the road towards San Martino.

Biagio reached for the woman who was sitting beside him.

She was cold, cold.

He tried to portray his hand, but she stopped and held.

Biagio entrargli felt his fingernails in the flesh.

looked at her and then abandoning the wheel, turned around and saw that she was pale and her hair disheveled.

In the face there were no pupils.

The car swerved again heading towards Rocca Cilento.

wheels scoured in an infernal noise.

Biagio breathed no more: she continued to claw his hand and crying was now more "human" and was clearly a presence behind them on the seats.

Biagio tried to look in the rearview mirror and saw something dark, maybe a face, yes, it was the face of the girl and her eyes were bright red.

brakes began to screech asphalt and the machine froze.

was in front of the cemetery of Rocca Cilento.

The woman opened the door and went down, then brought down the little girl from the back seat and took her in his arms.

Biagio started the car.

The woman and the girl went up the avenue of the cemetery.

The two doors were still wide open, the car was already in motion.

The race resumed.

Biagio had just time to see the parapet and was breaking into the ravine.

© 2007 Milena Esposito