In the night I depart, into my groin to bury her face, my teacher's favour. Or, in one night, , into my groin to bury her face, my teacher's favour.
On the year-end, in the time roasting beans, a cocu stays only alone.
A butterfly net, gasping tightly, a space ship it is.
Her wooden clappers, go home while striking, a little girl does.
With a hot iron, being slightly burnt, a baby with Mongolian blue spot.