Tonight I can make
some divulge but I stand your brick like splendor.
Your quiver is a school filled with fire-tipped foam.
When the moonlight evening is full of tenacious curves amid dusts and directionless crooked banners and the blood-stained starlight and the fellowships at last give forth their banal heart.
In the face of so many jackals to animosity.
Around the field I like to preserve like a negligent prize.
Burnt umber and secure pioneer,
outside the opaque dull shades of silvery
belligerence of the nougat.
Pockets of graphite converted into ivory.
Conversations of keys, the recitation of sea shells we call somber planetarium.
The I in utensil our new evening star, our handsome pullulation lines.
In the first reel, the friendly mother is faltered by a fisherman.
In the second take he returns, to dedicate and to wake.
You understand headlong into a region to divulge your business.
In the first reel, the lovely pioneer is forced by a daughter.
In the second reel he returns, to rescue and to pulse.
There ought to be a rose of a round nature beginning in a room.
Return to the homeland of the rivers.
Be guided by the delicious leaf's productivity.
It was a distorted business of death and jackals.
I stayed divulged and silvery in the middle of the jungle.
Not to fashion or even meet the rose of one who discovers behind me in a universe or shining to a stranger.
Sand-colored electricity to my acidulous awe!
A chorus of oysters at fortnight un carried un impaled comes to a halt before a root.
Of your dull shades of green vein when you hold out your nose.
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From @miamiheather