my photography

Are you just writing pictures on the pot?
That's the far nebula
The crowd who have it
The nest of the sky;
It's that nighttime
The driver of the dark-haired hand operated
Planets are Robi
Are you not as honest as them?
Hey, you're just pictures.

Why do you calm down in the evergreen?
Take a trip with the traveler
Go wrong
Why night
Being away from everyone is so far away
Stability in the inner abyss.
This dust
Gray area puff
The wind direction;
She opened the widow's cover in Baishakh
Gauri arranges the formation of Tapasini;
The organs give their magazines
Spring-union
This dust is also true;
This grass
Lean off the world
They are unstable, so they are true sabi.
You're still, you're crazy,
You just picture
One day we were on the way to our side.
The chest of the bust;
Body on the limb
How many dances to sing
Made up
Your rhythm newbie
Palate in the world;
How much time is he that is today
In this life
In my world
How true were
At the top of the floor,
You write on the side
Rosemary
That was you in the morning
The words of this world are figurines.