T
At sunset, on the bank of the river, Krishna loved him for the last time and left. That night, in the arms of her husband, Radha felt so dead that he asked, “What’s wrong? Do you mind if I kiss you, love? And she said, “No, not at all,” but he thought, “What does it matter to the corpse of the bite of the worms?”
Inside me there is a kernel, like the one that tries to fill the mango. Inside is the essence of another continent. I’m afraid that someone I throw it away, but as it would be best to take it in his arms and run away with him!
T
You must be careful of the mouth, especially if you’re a woman. A smile goes choked with the hem of her sari. No one should see your own cracked serenity, even with joy. If every time you need to scream, alone foul, but in front of a mirror, where you can see the strange shape that takes the mouth, before the rub on.
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