Photo of my body in act three
Ling
The film is so red that it's too red to express the moaning of skin, red to present a young girl who is like a spring peach, like a peach at the end of the summer, thin and mature, and close to deep pink. But you know that all these things, like her flesh, are just blooming up, and spring light is not sexual because the sum of desire is on the face, on the neck, on the corner of the eye, not so direct, and perhaps she's thinking about the wind moon.
Bones.
But when you look at her body in the colours, as a grown-up is too young, it's just a few lines. It's just a few lines. It's a narrow outline neutral. Her bones are up, stable and inviolable, and she's very controlling herself.
Love
It's the most beautiful thing in the world.
I don't think that's what I'm giving, but I'm being filmed.
♪ And dream into reality ♪
Two men's play.
Goodbye.
"I'm watching."