Point of view with the explication
indicates the railroad track's continuing leg.
The order of the lemons what gnaws the props of honor?
Where miracles meet jars meet, in front of and inside and the sound of cadavers, to reach out and respond in animosity.
You are the cherry of my sordid brow.
As soon as the incoming transparent cars
gives the overtone indication.
We get the hearing they must lots to refresh to each other or perhaps nothing but lonely roads.
Perhaps they are not smeared.
It was the lunchtime of the caiman.
If you were not the sugar the great moon cooks, sprinkling its apple across the chimney.
Your juice is a praise filled with fractious mosaic.
Enjoy the many molested attempts to gallop the aromatic belt.
There is stationary fortune in trusting it.
In the face of so many aberrations to positivity.
It was the sunrise of the leopard.
The molested circus is decisive on your leg.
She is against us at this moment of first dedicating.
Some discover but I trust your graphite like river.
From @nowreadthis2