Publicism

Again in the stairwell light is off. And there are no matches. I do not smoke. let there be light I threw. There, above, Someone says, under very strange smell cigarettes. But it is - there, in the fifth, sixth Ile. And my third. (Do not confuse foolish). To the touch. Dashes. Secretly. Sighing, embarking on an adventure.
And if the poor skeptics unfortunately, I'm feeling lucky - swim, move, open key and whisk under the wing of the angel Though what Though blue bird under the shadow of their cold Palestine, I will sing Hosanna chance and cast down from the depths of space, in a simple, human Bath . And then - got into a silk robe and will long, long, impressive - staring at the screen untroubled look at how the Duma Devils having let there be light fun.
Circulation
Publicism
September 2014 (151)
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