It's snowing outside. Silence so whitely hovers in me. I'm climbing up towards the pure, I'm stepping at the hovering. And your touch is extremely infinite. It is lasting and lasting, and the motion is closed In the round of our closeness
Π‘Π°ΠΉΡ ΡΠΏΡΠ°Π²Π»ΡΠ΅ΡΡΡ ΡΠΈΡΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΎΠΉ
uCoz
