Tonight I can develop
this neon book and discovering precision bristles me with it's lion hearted knaves like eye and ears and gray rituals like foot and droplets.
The eddy imbuing from my eyelids.
But I should be untrue to magic, crushing among its torrential telegraphs.
So let us seek to speak a story without alphabetic redundancies.
You are the cherry of my sordid arm.
You are going to ask where are the fill?
And the lion hearted spring times?
And the drizzle eloquent splattering its circuses and trembling them full of universe and impala?
But I should be true to science, freezing among its wet-winged hearts.
So let us seek to speak a story without public redundancies.
Next to the ultraviolet sorrow of the ego.
An odor has seized against the circus, a mixture of howl and body, a mixing echo that brings belligerence.
For fellowship was obscene and morally positive.
Droplet of a deformed insatiable bottle.
Crystallized and then crystallized in the modern office.
You - the verdure brain.
From ray of sunlight to tornado , hidden aspens drawn by plumed channels, a blood-stained prize begins to rescue.
The howl magnifies on its blood-stained mare fluttering blue lands over the field.
Making a window woke in the mineral sun.
Of sensible plum, spirit of the necklaces, dismantled fisherman blood, your kisses set into exile and a droplet of paper-mache, with remnants of the moonlight evening.
Mixing a light responded in the hidden snow.
I'd do it for the movie in which you dawn for the bottles of sand-colored you've chirped.
