“I ordered them not to touch my breast, I ordered them not to mock my words, I ordered them not to tear my vagina, and I ordered them several things not to do. Their dried lips always lick my freedom feathers. Freedom to walk inside the cage, freedom to talk inside the abandoned room, freedom to moan when they eats my flesh”, these are the last lines written in her diary. Every drop from her neck is a chance for Satan’s tongue to lick. Her nail power is like a lizard temper, holding the lust to crush it like a butterfly; eyes are useless, cut the veins. Her eyes are moving like a cloud, insane imagination under the sun. Her bloody particles still floating, words were clinched. Smelly hairy girl she is, painted the kisses on her words, coloring the soul. Gagging the shadow people by her fake tears, sits with them for a glass of wine. She has been sleeping in the street for several years. Lonely moon is staring at her secrets dreams. Dusty kisses in the desert, salty water from her mouth. She cried like a midnight dog, are we listening to her puzzle look? Her saliva flows towards solitude. She walked towards the horizontal lines and she never tried the vertical lines. Yeah! She cried like a midnight dog, dancing with her trial blood, pulling the smiles from her own words, bending her black body like cords. Death of etiquette flew from her wet lips. Veracious truth sleeping in her vagina, ferocious wolves licking her rainbows then she cried like a midnight dog. Crying moon stepping inside her forest, beady-eyed rabbits are vomiting on her. Efface the memory of the memory, nudity of malarkey is melting, touch of a peacock feather ruined her shouting doubts and then she suddenly vanished like a sundown, we can still see the drops of her shining tears.