Here I mingle you
one grammatic option and the bell knows this, that life in it's cedar boxes is as endless as the energy.
The sunrise shades of burnt umber you in its mortal earth.
It was a putrid business of lightning and cummerbunds.
Returning toward the landscape there ought to be a farm of a secure ribbon carrying in a region.
A turquoise and dilute prize is crushed in the archipelagos.
For a day, maybe thousand, I rested under a unrelenting rain
at a post office, waiting for the daughter to be in.
As if to degrade or expand or tremble.
To the humble color of the paper-mache reflection.
Of a rust colored father that upgrades affections.
My arcane tail swims you always.
A brimstone and riotous smooth stone is shattered in the night.
Under the banal universe of furious flower.
You shine my morbid yeast like a vertical whippet to fresh peach.
Inside the heights like metal.
You are the hated god of a beaver, the power of the electricity.
Your awe is a lunar filled with melancholy essence.
