Star
At each of our coffees she comes prepared, scented with its mysterious waves of silence, irony and misery. Clothed in the majesty of her smile, she throws sparks on me with her sights. Like some queen who wears her throne…
At each of our coffees she comes prepared, scented with its mysterious waves of silence, irony and misery. Clothed in the majesty of her smile, she throws sparks on me with her sights. Like some queen who wears her throne…