It was not sleep

I very want you to kiss... please, compliment with me these sweet seconds... they will be slasche honey... they will be more tender than soft toys... they will be more elegant than black lady-cat..
I want you how never wanted frozen...
your tender lips will slightly touch my, and your language will glance aside to me in a mouth...
these beatific minutes it is impossible nothing to break a secret.. your lips slasche the most sweet sugar... I am sorry me.. I do not know why, but I am afraid that when will open eyes, all of ischezne', as in sweet sleep... - I whispered to you in interruptions between kisses.. but you did not answer, you had only slightly touched my ear, and gently scuffed a cheek.... and I understood that this was not sleep..