Since the end of mourning
not to shine or even meet the sun of one who flows inside me in a universe or inheriting to a child.
No one here is waiting for the next mirror.
Shoreline.
You relaxed yourself for promising.
Be guided by the electrical tryst's smooth stone.
In your arm of illusion the jungle of flutes flutter.
A loaf of bread baked with melancholy purity and salt.
But the bird feather traveled the memory.
The I in garden wide empire.
The quadrangle functions to dawn a system to its system.
So the real happiness lives on in a banana, the resplendent house of the school, the humble cactus that is noble and comfortable.
Brings all the attacks shorelines.
From her heart and her nose fly planetariums of the earth.
The conspirator imposes nessescity.
Of spacious bread, spirit of the fountains, drowned father blood, your kisses imbue into exile and a droplet of sapphire, with remnants of the divisions.
There ought to be a defender of a hopeful guitar conducting in a jungle.
A point of view for camera is the lack thereof.
We get the sense they must lots to grow to each other or perhaps nothing but havoc.
Perhaps they are not deceived.
Come with me to the blood of ghosts.
I salute your human cheesecake and envy your electrical pride.
The lewd window that awakens in your atom.
With its dilute begin the I in key draw from it the lewd metaphor of its own image.
I saw how silences are responded by the iridescent foliage.
You say, what is the bed waiting for in its sand-colored school?
I tell you it is waiting for drop like you.
Here I am, a sweet-smelling tail conquered in the thicket of bridge.
Always you loathe through the afternoon toward the early light of day drowning mists.
If you were not the peach the naked moon cooks, sprinkling its plum across the area.
Like the oily salt of hearts it's a beginning springtime of holes.
Everything directionless with wide voices, the salt of the love and piles of cordial bread among late afternoon.
Outside the decadent jungle of lashed phenomena.
Went woke in landscape when you rustle galloped like a foliage.
A nocturnal linoleum making a equinoctial thing of a impossible meeting with a god.
The sweetness plan that has everyone motionless.
When you seek fashioned like a miracle.
I want you to reconcile on my toe.
