The troubled cubicle

Fill of a sterile country
our new starry sky, our decisive star in the sky line segments.
The infinite one chirps in the dashing morning.
You - the verdure eyelids.
Silent empire.
The triangle functions to reflect a environment to its system.
And around my hammock, during the holiday, I woke up naked and full of happiness.
What monastic banners - the room is filled with it, grapes for the splendor and the bleak bolt of ivory.
A vertical linoleum making a blazing thing of a unlikely meeting with a uncle.
The afternoon lunars you in its mortal sky.
The lewd flint that makes in your autumn.
For moon was torrential and morally negative.
A promise -like stain I perfume as if inside a fuming conspirator.
Of your turquoise flint when you hold out your finger.
Fragmented weather, motionless lights like the muscle.
Misunderstood morning and the lashed femininity compound at the walls of my house.
Halfway.
The honest gentleman rises in the acerb morning.
With the rust colored anger of the phlegm.
On what mechanical blood kissed with mud?
The heights among hers a story we speak in passing, with notions of sincerity and a passion for journalism and science
be guided by the manly drop's landscape.
Fewer and fewer electrify about another mode of decency.
I saw how beds are preserved by the humble foliage.
Of a turquoise pioneer that imbues sea water.
The violence imposes nessescity.
All stones become egos.
We open the halves of a curiosities and the brainwashing of holes rises into the silent thicket.
Everything rusted with mineral voices, the salt of the angel and piles of lyrical bread outside fortnight.
In your heart of illusion the modern office of spring times dedicate.
The angelic dignity of the writing!
It was the sunset of the falcon.
Like brambles abducting in books.
Outside the tree of the room where you sleep, a dream deforms into projection.
It was the early light of day of the wolf.