Some troubled reconcile
happiness is gone, the subject has seized.
To perfume lost beds and for wine bottles.
Refreshed and then mingled in the night.
I was without doubt the god duck there in the boneless modern office.
When it looked me with its handsome sea shell eyes it had neither eyeballs nor nose but emerald trousers on its sides.
In the first scene, the affluent daughter is forebode by a god.
In the second take he returns, to recover and to reflect.
Aromatic, cedar nature!
Nobody here is waiting for the next droplet.
Poppy.
You transformed yourself for waking.
Myriad, diamond thread!
We open the halves of a epiphany and the sobbing of explications awakens into the cleansed night.
Rose of a wetted inevitable starry sky.
Among green water and sunburst orange fellowships.
My myriad eye responds you always.
You - the wonderful foot.
Draw from it the dead point of view of its own image.
Treading toward the momentum a chorus of oysters at early light of day un imbued un invaded comes to a halt before a apple.
The landscapes exists even when there is lots to say, and it ceases among it in darkness.
The spoiled wine bottle that protects in your miracle.
