To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
She is, in her way, a dear. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. I’m right again now.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMjIuMjQwLjI1MSAtIDEzLTA5LTIwMjQgMDY6NTk6MTMgLSAxNjQ5ODg5MzU=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 09:59:21
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8