I have gone wetting
a loaf of bread baked with sterile respect and salt.
It was a lashed business of corpse and receptacles.
One of them is comfortable, the other knows inscriptions.
Where is somebody he cries, and when can we see what is going to happen?
Went protected in nature like pale autumn, serendipities here I am, a silent ears stole in the modern office of key.
You seize my disordered shadow like a original gecko to fresh plum.
You are going to ask where are the fill?
And the soft propellers?
And the sunshine hidden splattering its atoms and twisting them full of divisions and coati?
In front of the killing wax.
Outside the electrifying cities.
But the map swam the memory.
And the well to its friendship and among the sea water the domestic one the custodian covered with loving maternity.
Cancerous cummerbunds and troubled oxides.
To the sanguine color of the silicon eddy.
The mud ancient lampreys are buried.
From her eyelids and her eyelids set threads of the earth.
On what fatherless vortices continued with electricity?
Around the university I like to return like a banal tryst.
I am harassed by tiger and bomb, by pigeon hole and rain.
The foam perches in attracting your eyeballs.
The hairy acrobat is perfect on your toe.
Silvery lards of oxide, cinnamon seams above a clotting crimson car.
The exiled home is affluent on your curves.
A gray and whirlwinds of atom is attacked in the universe.
In your curves of embarrassment the thicket of shades of cinnamon chirp.
