You, in bloom, heart, beloved, you are like the foliage of the sky over my eyes and I look at you lying on the earth
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets: LVI
seen from United States
seen from India

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Maldives
seen from Austria
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from Singapore
seen from Yemen
You, in bloom, heart, beloved, you are like the foliage of the sky over my eyes and I look at you lying on the earth
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets: LVI

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Eu não confio nem em mim mesmo
Por que eu iria confiar em você?!
2019 August 24 - LVI to JNB

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Random x reader oneshots (my favorites and my own) - Toothless x reader Lemon ~Mating Season~ (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/P36t3vejfS These are going to be random x reader oneshots, you can request if you would like. I put some of my favorite stories in here from really great writers.(Some are very maturely themed) This is technically like All around the world One-shots
like or credit @seInagomz
Presto dovrà la fredda tenebra inghiottirci; chiarore vivo di troppo brevi estati, addio! Già sento cadere sul selciato del cortile la legna risuonante con lugubri colpi. L'inverno intero s'insedierà nell'esser mio: odio, brividi, orrore, ira, duro travaglio forzato, e, come il sole nel suo inferno polare, un rosso blocco ghiacciato diventerà il mio cuore. Fremendo ascolto ogni ceppo cadere; non ha il patibolo per me eco più sorda. Il mio spirito è come una torre che crolla sotto i colpi del pesante ariete infaticabile. Cullato da quei colpi monotoni, mi sembra che in gran fretta una bara si stia inchiodando. Dove, e per chi? - Ieri ancora estate; oggi è autunno! Quel rumore misterioso è segno del distacco.
LVI - Canto d’autunno -- Spleen e ideale > I fiori del male - Charles Baudelaire