ADDICTED:
My hands reach for his long rugged rod,
So patiently he waits while the picture floats round his cranium.
His dreams and fantasy knows no bound; from the patient blow, to the peaceful stroke and hole made with hands shaped like Zero.
This is it, yes! the road permeates zeros, screwed until saturation; The point where those fluids escape from its noble hole and the sound escapes ooo!...
The picture vanishes
The Zeros turns five
The rod slips
The heart beat and in a flick
The pleasure gone
Esteem dust and drops
It's a circle, you break you wail
The vow, I'm not doing it again
Then the painter paints the picture
Yet Again
Addiction..... iCE [color=#006600][/color]