She was reading a book like an actress in rehearsal as she walked down the street in autopilot mode, her knuckles brushing against the fresh morning myths, she was possessed by images in the heavy, noisy air, lines of passion in fragmentation.
Cobalt-blue bodice, pointers tremble little needle screams, shadows in the eyes of the titties, two twin chapels, between them goes the size of her soul, close the eyes and remain static, cathedral of flavors of private cultivation, the pink mouth gives itself naked in the open air a procession courting the skin.

Scene 3 - (words in description)

Uivo mecanico