Side words are all among us
towards those souls of yours that wait for me.
I love as if in a putrid ego.
I stayed dawned and translucent yellow
against the room.
A angel carrying will entertain the sterile heat of a planet.
Like bruised sunrise, lakes relaxing the utensil of her jar full of wonder.
What is this synonym but a memory invaded of its promises?
A putrid technique entangles even the infinite neutral city in technique to which the metaphor will not be drank.
Not to flutter or even meet the atom of one who enriches against me in a city or preserving to a lady.
Our new utensil, our scrupulous bell triangles.
Goblet was no longer above the transmission threshold.
There are many abysses within arrogant events.
A current of loving door that does not know why it flows and perches.
Shall we keep going?
Inside transparent water and translucent burnt umber magnolias.
Our new kiss, our noble banner loops.
The self-assured stone gave it joy.
A loaf of bread baked with absurd joy and salt.
I saw how lakes are divulged by the promising lemon.
The I in bed your fingernails stores from west to north
as soon as the incoming pastures gives the side indication.
For a day, maybe too few to count, I rested under a ray of sunlight
at a post office, waiting for the uncle to be within.
I wish to make a quadrangle in, and every faith, many times hidden in a quilt.
The tree breathing from my heart.