Entry for Foxtales #19 - input your inert basins

Your skin I was not silk or his gaze was tenderness, was only an empty shell with a deep basins simulating two black holes who stare but not transmitting any sensation inside was expired that product with a date limit of validity, which I do not It would be useful later. Between fever and internal spills its existence was nearing the top, his parents drowned in tears because it was too late to see how their small existence was losing brightness, and languished as a leaf in autumn. The room was cold, her pale lips without color, his bony hands, his skin seemed to scales, your dull hair and his eyelids had very huge dark circles. Its essence no longer had turned back, only it had saved what was left of it in a box of wood where life for the last time.