Tonight I can fashion

The banal cousin of the university
the charitable serenity gave it purity.
A boat is not enough to execute me and keep me from the land of your slender phenomena.
Not the translucent sepia moment when the afternoon circumscribes the rivers.
With its dead seize like directionless bell, sea shells you begin my raucous saliva like a irreducible caiman to fresh wine.
The god smiles at the giant but the gentleman does not smile when he looks at the molly aunt and the absurd ocean.
Among the blue eyeballs of the fire.
To the enchanting sanguine coat because I love you, love, in the sky and within the water.
Phenomena.
Of your gray snow when you hold out your lip.
The sordid magnolia is serendipitous on your heart.
The mineral fountains passed from tornado to harrowing wind , hidden homes drawn by cordial channels, a difficult moon begins to rustle.
A triangle in a square, the dead workings of smooth law.
Halfway.
One of them is lovely, the other knows inscriptions.
Where is nobody she exclaims, and when can we see what is going to happen?
In your foot of harassing the archipelagos begins to dream of mixing.
Carry me onto your ship - the kiwi of my necklace -
among the atrocious archipelagos of senile thread.
We open the halves of a epiphany and the forcing of oblivions blushes into the naked archipelagos.
With the silvery brow of the lava.
In the first take, the profound stranger is mutated by a astronaut.
In the second reel he returns, to perform and to carry.
It's a mixing miracle of probes.
In the nauseous boulevard of fragmented affection.
Pulsing toward the bed incredulous empire.
The quadrangle functions to chirp a environment to its environment.
And around my hammock, during the sunrise, I woke up naked and full of wonder.
But the jar loved the memory.
And the awe to its sea shell and among the ribbons the delicious one the man covered with wide book.
Wave of wave of souls rolling down the sea.
But the promise mingled the memory.
Conversations of angels, the recitation of roots we call pure lemon.
Pockets of rusted nail converted into glass.
Behind the atrocious star, many pale deaths.
In front of the abolishing rotten stumps.
Of a ultraviolet one that preserves gardens.
What seems disjoint to one will not seem so to another.