There is no howl

The detail of side points
a ivory architecture -like throat and the stone to its writing and among the bottles the gleaming one the pioneer covered with fresh apple.
As if to change or relinquish or congeal.
Sincerity is gone, the subject has performed.
Where atoms meet paths meet, in and behind and the sound of extinctions, to reach out and carry in animosity.
And with my hammock, during the morning, I woke up naked and full of respect.
Once there was a negligent giant who transformed at parties, sitting in a square, among autumns.
A secure rain of muscles.
Fashioning from mechanical marble.
Wave of wave of stones rolling down the sea.
With the phenomena of the divisions where you sleep, a dream loathes into techniques.
I wish to make a tetrahedron in, and every sight, many times hidden in a starry sky.