开着水的水管塞进了我下面

开着水的水管塞进了我下面

iou▓s old sin-cushion into which we all have t▓o stick rusty pins of our admiration” ●he snapped.In his diary he add▓ed drily: “Moths are attracted b▓y the flame of personality.So are vampire▓s.Artists should take note and bew

开着水的水管塞进了我下面

are.” ▓And in the mirror he cursed him●self roundly for this lapse, a self-●indulgence which had brought him wha▓t most bored him — an intimate● relationship.But in the sleeping face he too ▓saw the

of a clerk.F

开着水的水管塞进了我下面

childish inhabitant o▓f Justine, the “calcimined imprint● of a fern in chalk”.He saw how she▓ must have looked on the first night of love● — hair torn and trailing over the pillow li●ke a ruffled b

or those wh?/a>

开着水的水管塞进了我下面

lack dove, fingers like tendrils▓, warm mouth inhaling the airs of sleep; warm ▓as a figure of pastry fresh from the oven.“O▓h damn!” he cried aloud.‘The●n in bed with her in a hotel crowd▓ed with A

坥 love poet

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t a▓ momentary disgust at this bourgeois fear o●f his; afraid of intruders, spies, a husband▓ ‘“Qu’est-ce que c’est〃埍 ‘“Je m’écoute moi-même.” Yellow● eyes without a trace of discernible▓ divinity in them; he was like a

slender ●rock-god, with ruffled moustache.Past● lives “Le coeur qui bat.”● Derisively he quoted a popular song.‘“Tu n〃埊es pas

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une femme pour moi — pas ▓dans mon genre.” ‘This made her feel like a● whipped dog specially as a moment ago● he had been kissing her, breaking her down in●to successive images of pain and pleasure ●with an imp

ortunity which belonged▓, she now knew, only to his ▓passion and not to himself.‘ “What do you wa●nt” she said, and struck him ▓across the face to feel at once the stinging r▓etort on her own cheek — like spra