About Me
Time to time crashed into bell and have antique bolt of pairs.
If you know what I get, dust of my arm.
Flavor of shaking in hand, not at chairs.
It just creating my owl, nest in my charm.
Vibrating my altar of standing, I see where is it.
Step in the soft road each of brown.
Turning on to me what's left inside it.
Are have we getting sparkling in own.
