< Misha Campfires
I kissed your palm,
Gently touching the lines of life,
Wiping his lips all you grieve,
Picturing the future of which many dream.
I kissed your palm
Realizing that I am the one who is destined to
Reluctantly, lightly, not out of malice,
Everything in your life left, spoil.
I kissed your palm ...
I swear, I was crying, afraid that you will understand ...
Remember, the gentle touch?
You laughed and said, "That tickles! "
And I was in your future, there was no