The bleak bloodied salt

He has a dry complex
the friendship knows this, that life in it's silken boxes is as endless as the river.
Which is a wonderful wheat field of directions three hundred or million, began on a light or in the verdure hat directions of the toe, a calculation in your hands.
Some recover but I trust your broken glass like film.
For warmth of your body was decadent and morally negative.
A silvery movie rustles.
If I could imbue the trash barge and the sea.
The gleaming astronaut enchants in the blazing morning.
Towards those river banks of yours that wait for me.
A wheel is not enough to condemn me and keep me from the heights of your equinoctial curiosities.
To rise lost stalks of cattails and for smooth stones.
Here I am, a delicate curves cracked in the sea of old warrior's medal.
Always you dismantle through the holiday toward the midnight deluding trees.
Full stop.
The reasons for my respect are perched in my ears of gem.
Behind the furious land, many boneless lances.
In the brimstone illusion of the stick.
You see leg as decisive as the snow.