plaisir-ecrire

What do you like in your life?
Do you really trust your best friend?
Can our love be killed by that knife?
Do you read the words I send?

This man is waiting for,
He is waiting for his one,
The one to whom he owns amor,
I had never kissed anyone.

Our roses grow in our garden
While we start to be closer
But we cannot touch heaven.

Gods will probably be in anger
If we're interested in bodies,
Desires are led by feelings.