I V O
ME MO RIE S
D A V ID
O F
A N
A RT IST
Young Love he time of love surprised me at evening on the meadows of my native town, along the beach of Naples. My hand was trembling in the hand of my girl in love, finding the honey of love the taste of the native land the joy of sex in the touching. The moon was spying on us behind an enchanted cloud empty of rain, when we united in the hug.
143