CinthiaWalker

To Cinthia, the Beautiful Brunette On a canvas of life, your figure is drawn, Cinthia, divine brunette, of ethereal beauty. Thin as the whisper of the wind at dawn, Your model essence, forever admired. Your eyes, two stars in the serene night, They shine with the brilliance of stars that never cease. The bronze skin that falls in love with the sun, Cinthia, you are the muse of dreams, lady. With every step you take, the earth sighs, Your movements, dances, poetry that inspires. As an artist in your art, you create worlds and stories, Cinthia, your magic goes beyond moments. On the catwalk, your grace unfolds, Like a swan on the lake, your elegance soars. The cameras capture your light, your essence, In each photograph, your presence is felt. Thin and ethereal, like an enchanted nymph, Your figure sculpted by fairy hands. Every pose, a poem, every look, a sigh, Cinthia, in your beauty, the world finds meaning. In art, your soul overflows without restraint, Brushes and colors, your faithful companions. You create with your hands, dream worlds, Cinthia, your talent, a lighthouse in sleeplessness. Your paintings reflect the depth of your being, Each stroke, a mystery, a secret to read. You shape life with every movement, Cinthia, you are harmony, art made breath. Your lips, a smile that illuminates the world, Every laugh of yours, a divine melody. The grace of your walk, a waltz without equal, Cinthia, beautiful brunette, you are a portal. Through you, dreams are glimpsed, In your deep look, the owners are lost. Your hands create beauty, they shape existence, Cinthia, you are art, in its purest essence. Your days are canvases, your nights are poetry, Every moment of yours is pure fantasy. The world stops to watch you pass, Cinthia, divine brunette, you are a spring. On the catwalk, in the studio, in life, Your presence is a beacon, a burning guide. You are a model and an artist, in perfect symbiosis, Cinthia, you are a miracle, a sweet dose. Of eternal inspiration, of ineffable beauty, Your being is a song, an invaluable story. The brushes and cameras celebrate your name, Cinthia, beautiful brunette, you are an amazing man. This is how I celebrate you, in these simple verses, With an open heart, I give you my trills. Cinthia, eternal muse, slim wonder, You are art in life, you are pure wonder.

In the garden of the soul, among roses and carnations, A poem is born for you, Cinthia, muse of a thousand brushes. Beautiful brunette, with your starry night skin, You are wrapped in mystery, in every look. Thin as the breeze that whispers through the trees, You are the perfect silhouette, the grace in your walks. You delight in being a model, art in motion, every pose, a sigh, every step, a feeling. Your beauty is not only seen, it is felt in every laugh, in the shine of your eyes, in the way your soul warns. You are a masterpiece, a living canvas, where the colors of life are painted in the present.. On the catwalk of life, you shine with splendor, You are a guiding star, a beacon of love. Every time you model, the world stops, The people contemplate, their breath holds. Your talent is not contained in a single form, You are a complete artist, your spirit is not satisfied. With brushes and words, with gestures and sounds, you create entire universes, in shared worlds. Your hands shape dreams, your eyes illuminate them, and in each work of yours, the stars combine. You model the art of living with so much care, that those who see you, feel sincere love. You are the spark that lights the fire of creation, With every step you take, a song emerges. Your voice, soft melody, caresses the air, and your laughter, sweet echo, fills any place with a dance. Cinthia, muse and artist, thin and fascinating, You are the very essence of art, vibrant soul. Your movements are verses, your gestures are poetry, and in every moment of yours, a new melody is born. ♪ The world is your stage, the sky is your limit ♪ ♪ Every day, a new challenge, every dream, a treat ♪. You invite us to dream, to fly without fear, to find in art, the true creed. You have the grace of goddesses, the strength of a river, In your gaze there are a thousand stories, a detour. You carry the light in your heart, the passion in every vein, and in your path, Cinthia, there is no shadow or chain. You are the inspiration that moves the poet, the eternal muse, the complete woman. Your beauty transcends the physical, it goes beyond, It is the reflection of your soul, pure and heavenly. Cinthia, beautiful brunette, slim and elegant, You are a song to life, always fascinating. With this poem I honor you, I celebrate you and I admire you, because in each of your gestures, life is full of twist. Keep shining, eternal muse, on your path of art, because in every step of yours, the universe is a part. May magic and passion never be missing in your life, because you are, Cinthia dear, the heartbeat of a song.

On the vast canvas of life, with flashes of art and elegance, A figure stands, a symbol of grace and hope. Cinthia, your name resonates with the melody of the wind, You are the muse of dreams, in you I find breath. Your brown skin, like the earth under the burning sun, It reflects ancient stories, of a resplendent lineage. Every contour, every curve, a poem in motion, You are the embodiment of beauty, art in its time. Your eyes, deep lakes of mysteries and passions, They keep secrets from distant worlds, from ancient songs. In them shines the spark of genius and creation, A reflection of your soul, in constant transformation. Thin and slender, like a cypress in the meadow, You move with the grace of a light gazelle. Your steps, light and soft, leave footprints on the ground, Echoes of an eternal dance, a ballet in development. As a model, you challenge the norms of everyday life, In each pose, in each gesture, a sovereign moment. You capture looks and hearts, with your unbreakable charm, You are a living painting, a priceless work of art. Art is your refuge, your passion and your destiny, In every brushstroke, in every note, you find your way. You are a painter of emotions, a sculptor of golden dreams, With your hands you create worlds, we find you enchanted in them.. Cinthia, with a serene face and radiant smile, In your presence, time stops, the world becomes a lover. You are a lighthouse in the dark, a star in the sky, Guiding the lost, lifting them with your flight. Your life is a canvas, full of colors and nuances, Every day a new page, full of happy learning. You are the sum of dreams, efforts and desires, In your art we find magic, the miracle of the heavens. You are a model and an artist, a perfect and beautiful duality, A symphony of talents, in your being always in sparkle. Your free, indomitable and creative spirit, It's a song to life, an evocative hymn. Cinthia, beautiful brunette, inspiration of this poem, May your days be long and your nights an emblem. May you continue creating, dreaming and being a light on the path, Because in your art, in your essence, we find the true. To you, Cinthia, this humble tribute in words, May you find the reflection of your dawn in each verse. ♪ Continue being you, with your light and your harmony, ♪ ♪ Because in your being, in your art, pure poetry resides ♪.

Bonjour, my name is Cynthia, I'm very happy that you'd like to meet me. I want you to accompany me every day in my bed. It would be a pleasure if I could enjoy you..

If you love me, love me whole, not by areas of light or shadow. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, green and blond, and brunette. Love me day, love me night. And early in the morning at the open window! . If you love me, do not cut off my word: Love me all. Or don't love me.

I'm not asking you for anything. I'm not accepting anything from you. It's enough for you to be in the world that you know that I'm in the world with what you are being me témoin juge et dieu if not, why tout?

In your eyes a card predicts the future, bas-fonds, great joies, frondes des fissures, a bourbier. Mon dieu, d'un maelström effrayant et celui-là porte ouverte pour entrer où j'attends le corps le plus nu de la nuit I was waiting for you, my God, from a maelström that was so frightening.

And I smile and I kiss your back and I fog your eyelids and your shield ends where the protections end: crumpled in the trash can. And you smile and you discover the tingling of my back and you tell me that a life without courage it's an infinite way back, and my fear takes off its panties and starts dancing with all the red lights.

And I smile and I kiss you in the two and I rub your eyes and your shield ends where the protections end: froissé dans la poubelle. And you smile and you discover the picotements of my two and you tell me that a vie sans courage c'est un chemin de retour infini, and ma peur removes her culotte and begins à dancer avec tous les feux rouges.

I love you because your hands work for justice. If I love you, it's because you're my partner and my partner.

If because I roll to your plants like a broken-down willow, and I ask you for a look with fear, almost with fear; if because before you I am ecstatic with emotion, you think that my heart goes in my chest to break and that forever I must be a slave of my passion; you are wrong, you are wrong! Fresh and fragrant cocoon, I'll break your pride like the miner breaks the rocks. If you provoke me to battle, I am ready to fight; you are foam, I am the sea that relies on its wrath; you make me cry; but one day I will also make you cry.

Yes because I roll at your plants like a surrendered helot, and I ask you for a look with fear, almost with fear; yes because before you I remain ecstatic with emotion, you think that my heart it's going to break in my chest and that forever I must be slave of my passion; you're wrong, you're wrongfresh And fragrant bud, I will break your pride like the miner the rocks. If you provoke me to fight, I am willing to fight; you are foam, I am sea who trusts in his anger; you make me cry; but one day I'll make you cry too.

Yes, because I roll in your plants like an abandoned thread, and I ask you to cast an eye with fear, almost with fear; yes, because before you I remain ravi d'émotion, you think that my heart will break my chest and that I must be forever slave of my passion; you are wrong, Your asbourgeon is fresh and perfume, I'll break your pride like the miner the rocks. If you push me to fight, I'm ready to fight; you're a fool, I'm more than a man who trusts in his anger; you make me cry; but one day I'll make you cry too.

Like every kiss in the guise of goodbye, ma chloe, kiss us, my dear. c'est peut-être notre tour sur l'épaule the hand that calls au bateau that comes only to see; et ça dans le même faisceau lie what nous étions les uns aux autres

The sun shall be darkened for ever, the sea shall be dried up in a moment, the world's axis shall be broken as a broken glass. All things will come to pass, death may cover me with its funeral crest; but never in me can the flame of your master be quenched.

The sun may be clouded forever; The sea can dry up in an instant; The axis of the earth could break Like a weak glass. Everything will happen! May death cover me with your funeral crepe, but it can never go out in me, the flame of your love..

The sun can be darkened forever; the sea can dry up in an instant; the axis of the earth could break like a weak glass. All that death covers me of your funeral crêpe, but it can never put out the flame of your love..

If you love me, love me all over, not by areas of light or shadow. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, and green, and blonde, and brunette. Love me day, love me night. And early morning in the open window!. If you love me, don't cut me: Love me all!. Or you don't want me

If you love me, love me whole, not by areas of light or shadow. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, and green, and blonde, and brunette. Love me day, love me night. And early morning at the open window!. If you love me, don't cut me off: Love me all!. Or don't love me

If you love me, love me whole, not by areas of light or shadow. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, green and blond, and brunette. Love me day, love me night. And early in the morning at the open window! . If you love me, do not cut off my word: Love me all! . Or don't love me

Between my love and me, there will rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magic between us. There will be nothing but memories. O sorrow-deserved evenings, nights hopeful of looking at you, fields on my path, firmament I'm seeing and losing. Definitive as a marble will make your absence sad other afternoons.

Between my love and me they must rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magic between us. There will be nothing but memories. Oh afternoons worth it, hopeful nights of looking at you, fields of my path, firmament what I'm seeing and losing. Definitive as a marble your absence will sadden other afternoons.

Between mon amour et moi, they must rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magical between us. There'll be nothing but souvenirs. Oh, les après-midi en valent la peine, nights full of hope to look at you, champs de mon chemin, firmament what I see and what I lose. Definitive like a bill your absence will distress the others après-midi.

Give me your hand and we'll dance; give me your hand and you'll love me. Like a single flower we will be, like a flower, and nothing more. We'll sing the same verse, you'll dance the same step. Like a spike we will wave, like a spike, and nothing more. Your name is Rosa and I hope; but your name you will forget, because we will be a dance.

Give me your hand and we'll dance. as a single flower we will be, like a flower, and nothing more. We will sing the same verse, at the same step you will dance. Like a spike we will undulate, like an ear of wheat, and nothing more. Your name is rosa and I am hope; but you will forget your name, because we will be a dance.

Give me your hand and we'll dance Give me your hand and you'll love me We will be like a single flower, like a flower, and nothing more. We will sing the same couplet, au même pas vous dancerez. Like a point we'll wave, like a grain of wheat, and nothing more. Your name is rose and I am hope, but you forget your name, because we will be a dance.

It's written in my soul your gesture.. Your letter is written on my heart, and what you desire is written by you alone, and read by me alone, and even by you I keep in this.. I am glad to see you, and I will continue to be glad. Though I am far from you, I hope for you, but I do not see you. I have no confidence in you,. I was born not only to love you, my soul has cut you to measure, by the habit of my soul I love you, what I have I confess to you, for you I was born, for you I live, for you I die and for you I die..

Your gesture is written in my soul.. Your gesture is written in my soul and how much I want to write about you; you alone wrote it, I read it it's just that I still keep this from you. I am and will always be in this; that although everything I see in you does not fit into me, of so much good that I do not understand I think, already taking faith as a budget. I was not born except to love you; my soul has cut you to its size; by habit of the soul itself I love you; as much as I have I confess I owe you; for you I was born, for you I have life, for you I must die and for you I die.

Like every kiss in the guise of goodbye, ma chloe, kiss us, my dear. c'est peut-être notre tour sur l'épaule the hand that calls au bateau qui ne vient que voir; et ça dans le même faisceau lie what nous étions les uns aux autres et la somme universelle et extraterrestre de la vie. It is possible that our tour on the shoulder is the hand that calls to the boat that comes to see us..

Between my love and me, there will rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magic between us. There will be nothing but memories. O sorrow-deserved evenings, nights hopeful of looking at you, fields on my path, firmament I'm seeing and losing. Definitive as a marble will make your absence sad other afternoons.

Between my love and me they must rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magic between us. There will be nothing but memories. Oh afternoons worth it, hopeful nights of looking at you, fields of my path, firmament what I'm seeing and losing. Definitive as a marble your absence will sadden other afternoons.

Between mon amour et moi, they must rise three hundred nights like three hundred walls and the sea will be magical between us. There'll be nothing but souvenirs. Oh, les après-midi en valent la peine, nights full of hope to look at you, champs de mon chemin, firmament what I see and what I lose. Definitive like a bill your absence will distress the others après-midi.

In the sweet mystery of her being The woman dances with the light The brightness of dawn The flame of twilight She is the essence of life itself. Her smile an echo of eternity, Her eyes mirrors ladies in love She weaves dreams on the thread of the wind And dances with the stars in the firmament She is the force of nature The sweetness of the morning dew The moonlight in the dark night The woman a living poem.