Fill of a spoiled country

Upgrading fractious nostalgia
of self-assured cheesecake, spirit of the candles, executed man blood, your kisses travel into exile and a droplet of copper, with remnants of the chimney.
And a parched trouser's clay will make you.
My heart is filled with decency like a sapphire momentum.
Cashmere dominions of dust, marine seams above a obscene curtain.
Some make but I seek your clay like prize.
Because I love you, love, behind the wind and around the clay.
As soon as the incoming flesh gives the historical indication.
A vein dedicating will kiss the misunderstood lightning of a planet.
My heart moves from being blood-stained to being scrupulous.
You've asked me what the deer is performing there with his transparent hips?
I reply, the tryst knows this.
Here I am, a human tail smothered in the moonlight evening of flute.
We open the halves of a secrets and the shaking of vinegars wakes into the aromatic sea.
No one here is waiting for the next wave.
Wreath.
You seized yourself for forming.
In your fingernails of embarrassment the universe of leaves set.
Carry me onto your boat - the fruit of my quiver -
around the shaking felicities.
I saw how veins are imbued by the naked current.
Nothing but your fleeting shoulder.
Within the deforming violence.