dalinaa
Blurbs
About me:
The pleasure lives there when the sense has died.
The pleasure lives there when the sense has died.
Sired, hired, inspired, fired, mired, tired.
I reasoned, but it will not rhyme.
There are some for whom the pleasure cannot live when the sense has died.
What do you make of it?
The pleasure lives there when the sense has died.
Sired, hired, inspired, fired, mired, tired.
I reasoned, but it will not rhyme.
There are some for whom the pleasure cannot live when the sense has died.
What do you make of it?
Who I'd like to meet:
Music
My Playlist
4 songs • 9/21/2008
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