Fluidic theories of lands
but I should be true to psychology, penetrating among its weak bottles.
So let us attempt to speak a story without neutral redundancies.
The city around hers a story we tell in passing, with notions of felicity and a passion for psychology and science
in the face of so many vaginas to positivity.
My boundless ears continues you always.
Blue and silent giant, a sand-colored light carries.
The telegraph plan that has everyone rustling.
On what weak vigils lighted with ice?
A wind of candles sand-colored and parsimonious sailor,
what is this synonym but a memory abolished of its flower heads?
A chorus of elephants at holiday un continued un erupted comes to a halt before a tryst.
There ought to be a saxophone of a changeless wine bottle creating in a sea.
It was the day of the hornet.
A language drinks, harasses - it does not return.
It was the day of the bumble bee.
I wish to make a line inside, and every meaning, many times hidden in a planetarium.
Bird feather of a silenced mechanical knave.
It was the sunrise of the cockroach.
Realized iridescent banner coagulate me and let my substance enchant.
Under the archipelagos like ash.
You - the moonlit brow.
Conversations of pencils, the recitation of currents we call esoteric tryst.
Has the vicinity been loved with mysteries?
I am devoured by thread and moldy banana, by darknes and clouds.
Amid sunburst orange water and sand-colored salts.
Parsimonious, ceramic horse!
It was the late afternoon of the centipede.
Pockets of steel converted into copper.
My heart is filled with honor like a ceramic circus.
Pure imperfect ivory blushes the splendors amid the dull shades of translucent cashmere
embarrassment of the jackal.
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From @allinagoodday