You were nothing more than a sweet nectar of ineloquent nights. Furious eyes and an inner hunger, this man has made you think for some reason that only your bitter heart knows.

The softness of life is reflected in him, and the crowd is a rain cloud of passion and love, and you are so happy. Looking at the sky and then at yourself. You barely smile, oh, just a groupie on the wrong path.

“It’s like magic, babe, isn’t life wonderful?” he mentioned, walking with you, his shoulder around you, his sweat tangled on his forehead as if it were a reflection of rain on the window.