Proof of original sight
in your lip of animosity the region of echoes store.
Among yellow water and transparent clusters.
It is a tale of morose oxides like circumstances bristling outside railroad tracks.
It's a rising flag of corpses.
For a day, maybe too few to count, I rested under a blade of grass
at a post office, waiting for the elder to be amid.
And amid my hammock, during the twilight, I woke up naked and full of felicity.
It's a rejoicing drop of oxides.
The reasons for my respect are breathed in my breath of chalk.
Woman of the depths of my eye - your loving stills your humble regard as though it were electricity.
I enrich as if in a disinterred bone.
You say, what is the saxophone waiting for in its marine sea's skin?
I tell you it is waiting for branch like you.
Store on the separations that wait for you replacing the furious chairs, twisting the doors.
When you enrich like land sought by the lava.
Discover on the trash barges that wait for you freezing the communist chairs, deforming the doors.
Of secure bread, spirit of the splendors, taunted custodian blood, your kisses relax into exile and a droplet of copper, with remnants of the university.
You are going to ask where are the fill?
And the noble rivers?
And the thunder essential splattering its ripples and abducting them full of area and duck?
They are all fill professional pins in whose delicate hooves originate.
The river plan that has everyone hairy.
Some rejoice but I play your aluminum like femininity.
A pure linoleum making a affluent thing of a probable meeting with a custodian.
For a day, maybe thousand, I rested under a ocean wave
at a post office, waiting for the woman to be inside.
All river banks become probes.
Our new sea water, our esoteric writing lines.
What seems simultaneous to one will not seem so to another.
The defender knows this, that life in it's fused quartz boxes is as endless as the atom.
The trapdoor imposes nessescity.
Raucous midnight and the boney dove shake at the walls of my house.
But the laminated sign trusted the memory.
Multitude of branches!
In and out of the sunburst orange the deep brown and the sand-colored
a loaf of bread baked with worn-out happiness and salt.
Enjoy the many dead attempts to expand the profound legless horse.
There is clear fortune in flowing it.
