I do not want to pin my lips;Maybe you will be ashamed;Your dew masters soft tender lips,I just want to say bad fate;Or ...Like the white clouds of the distanceWould like to play on the floor.Your elano hairI do not want to raise my hand;Maybe you will feel proud of opening the chest;Your cloud fibers are silk black hair,I'm just an airy breezeWant to swing;Or sitting on the chest of a jungle flowerLike a mad bomber,I want to smell the eyes of two eyes.I do not want to touch your two eyes;Maybe you're going to die for Kajal,Eye color;Your pomace is in the eye,I want to see Joseshani of Boishakhi Purnima;Or wake up from sleeping in the middle of the night,Love poems to hear love.I do not want to hold your hand in your hand;Maybe you will bite the bracelet;Your little finger on the golden finger,I just want to read the hinges;Because then you are all about lifeI will be My ... just me
No comments