Those who know me were not surprised at this verse. After all I love black chocolate. Not milk, this illusion of pleasure, namely black. It has more truth than in many eyes 🙂
The drunken aroma will penetrate the night, the tired light of the star descends from heaven, instilling in the clear gaze of the human eye, and Chocolate is the bitterness on your lips on the watch of the birth of vice. Froze like the sky in the tenderness of sunset, worries the mind in pale color in a gloomy entity, the essence excites not words, but the smell of black tiles of chocolate. There is no brilliance in it, only the secret meaning that lips feel irrevocably, penetrating the secret taste, there is no road back, a monstrous coffee choice is captivated, without a fraction of the oscillation in night silence. Beckoning like a two -hundred -year -old taboo, inspiring the taste of the affectionate of the midnight willow, leaning in gusts of wind to get to the bowels of his soul. There are no clean motives in the chocolate of the lake of your beautiful eyes, and the ocean of vicious sensations, ready to withstand the holiness of the days when reckoning an hour. The lingering aroma under the mask of taste, the meaning of the eternal permafrost of the arrogant lips, the nature of the chocolate is daring is rude, it is covered with a veil of secrets for everyone, it has a soul? No … only a nut … a raisor of captivity and a filler is a vise, the chocolate is spoiled by all this belongings, and the taste is lost, and the vice is forgotten, only its pure taste gives the line that all the essence is threatened with, because the sharpness of thought, like a branch, is in coffee, that In the field of tiles with purity of victory is given. The noise of a bouquet of tastes subsides, and again the night is at the same time that the vice to live for a minute, and the Milky Way in his soul left the imprint, because even he cannot forget the chocolate ..