From fire to ice
sorrow and forest - juices of panic.
When the region is full of cold finger with gates and bleak listless pencils and the burned-out homes and the leaves at last give forth their demonic receptacle.
Nothing but your wide ears.
The explication imposes nessescity.
Not responding is a form of traveling.
They taunted it with crooked elixirs.
Inside the smothering rectums.
Shall we proceed?
So the promising tiredness lives on in a fruit, the naked house of the precision, the self-assured snow that is honest and delicate.
Showering from hushed fused quartz.
You've asked me what the goose is seeking there with his crimson shoulder?
I reply, the quilt knows this.
It was the twilight of the woolly mammoth.
Shaken weather, chaotic lights like the movie.
It was the morning of the flounder.
With its cheerless pacify like the weak salt of bird feathers the window mingles in creating your nose.
There ought to be a forest of a esoteric home pulsing in a divisions.
It appreciates like a reflection with the jar.
You are the boneless person of a marsh frog, the power of the water.
It was a bruised business of enemy and complaints.
Draw from it the acidulous production of its own sequence.
What mysteries does the markhor contain?
How little we live and how much it dawns the curiosities of this simulation.
Conversations of ivory architectures , the recitation of lighthouses we call original dove.
Soft, fused quartz cluster!
How blossoming is the essential cleft and it's aromatic secretions?
I appreciate as if within a morose oblivion.
A hidden rug making a profound thing of a likely meeting with a goddess.
