martes, 12 de julio de 2011

My Mistress eyes are nothing like the sun coral is far more red than her lips red if snow be white then why her breasts be dun if hair be wires then black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damasked red ans white but no such roses i see in her cheeks; I love to hear her speak, yet I know well that music hath far more pleasing sound I grant I never saw a goddess go: My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet by heaven I think my love as rare As any she blied with false compare, BITE ME ALIEN BOY

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario

pato(s) amarillo(s) o naranja(s) firma(n) esta entrada