If you ask her about the favourite part of her trip she will put her hand on her chin and look up, close her eyes and think of a film she watched at home in bed with an old boyfriend; a man ate canned pineapple, he ran round and round in circles to sweat out his tears, so he would stop being sad. She loved the rise and fall of his clammy chest, the purr of the computer and his stomach beneath the duvet. If you ask her what she loved most, she will say that it would have to be that scene, the sweating, and the smell of his shirt she left in the hotel.
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If you ask her what her favourite, she would put her hand on her chin, looked up, her eyes closed, she watched the film feel at home in bed with an old boyfriend; a man eating a pineapple canned, he ran around and around the circle sweating his tears, so he is no longer sad. She loved the rise and fall of his chest, clammy, grunts and his belly computer duvet. Underneath you ask her what her favourite part is; that it will be the scene, sweating, and the taste of his shirt—her stay in a hotel.
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If you ask her what her favourite, she can put your hands and chin, looked up, eyes closed. I saw this movie, feel at home in bed, an old friend, a person who ate canned pineapple ran full head sweat tears circle so I would not hurt. He loves the cold and wet roaring chest rise and fall, and below the belly computer quilts. If you ask, my favourite part is that you will be on the stage, sweating, his shirt, she stayed in the taste of the hotel.
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They are her favourite. She says she does not, hand on chin, eyes, think the film, an old friend at home in bed, a man who eats canned pineapple stopped feeling, sweat, tears ran circles around him, unfortunately, did not see. They rise and fall of the chest cold and wet whine love and stomach the computer blankets. My favourite part of you that you step, sweat call, then his shirt, he tastes of a hotel.
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Eyes do not love, an old friend in bed at home, feeling stalls, or sweat, tears pineapple round. The man is a must eat, any canned food, unfortunately did not expect to know—this is to say—pushing them to surrender is his favourite. Swift clouds, and cold and wet blanket peat and breast love to get rid of the computer. My favourite part of you that you are moving, they call a shirt taste, the hotel’s sweat.