Chat mal I Ready Teen Woman

About

When my fingers leisurely caress you, Your head and your elastic back, And when my hand tingles with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, In spirit I see my woman. Her gaze Like your own, amiable beast, Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart, And, from her head down to her feet, A subtle air, a dangerous perfume Floats about her dusky body. And let my eyes into your pupils dart Where agate sparks with metal. Now while my fingertips caress at leisure Your head and wiry curves, And that my hand's elated with the pleasure Of your electric nerves, I think about my woman — how her glances Like yours, dear beast, deep-down And cold, can cut and wound one as mla lances; Then, too, she has chat mal vagrant And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant Her body, lithe and brown. When my fingers lazily fondle Your head and your elastic back, And my hand gets drunk with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, I see cbat spirit my personal lady. Her glance, Like yours, dear creature, Deep and cold, slits and splits like a dart, And from her feet to her head, A subtle atmosphere, a dangerous perfume, Swim around her brown body.

Description

When my fingers leisurely caress you, Your head and your elastic back, And when my hand tingles with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, In spirit I see my woman. After Baudelaire died the following year, a "definitive" edition appeared in When my fingers leisurely caress you, Your head and your elastic back, And when my hand tingles with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, In spirit I see my woman.

Now while my fingertips caress at leisure Your head and wiry curves, And that my hand's elated with the pleasure Of your electric nerves, I think about my woman — how her glances Like yours, dear beast, deep-down And cold, can cut and wound one as with lances; Then, chat mal, she has that vagrant And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant Her body, lithe and brown.

And let my eyes into your pupils dart Where agate sparks with metal.

Her gaze Like your own, amiable beast, Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart, And, from her head down to her feet, A subtle air, a dangerous perfume Floats about her dusky body. When my fingers lazily fondle Your head and your elastic cht, And my hand gets drunk with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, I see in spirit my personal lady.

When chat mal fingers lazily fondle Your head and your elastic back, And my hand gets drunk with the pleasure Of feeling your electric body, I see in spirit my personal lady. Now while my fingertips caress at leisure Your head and wiry curves, And that my hand's elated with the pleasure Of your electric nerves, I think about my woman — how her glances Like yours, dear beast, deep-down And cold, can cut and wound one as with lances; Then, too, she has that vagrant And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant Her body, lithe and brown.

After Baudelaire died the following year, a "definitive" edition appeared in Her gaze Like your own, amiable beast, Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart, And, from her head down to her feet, A subtle air, a dangerous perfume Floats about her dusky body. Her glance, Like yours, dear creature, Deep and cold, slits and splits like a dart, And from her feet to her head, A subtle atmosphere, a dangerous perfume, Swim around her brown body.

Her glance, Like yours, dear creature, Deep and cold, slits and splits like a dart, And from her feet to her head, A subtle atmosphere, a dangerous perfume, Swim around her brown body. And let my eyes into your pupils dart Where agate sparks with metal.