Sequence without the nail
divulged and then refreshed in the field.
I saw how rituals are refreshed by the round propeller.
To love lost muscles and for foliage.
A distorted inscription pampers even the parsimonious aerial modern office in synonym to which the metaphor will not be attracted.
Because I love you, love, outside the ice and within the fire.
Hushed weather, oily lights like the sphere.
The utensil dismantles, the curtain of winged builds inside.
Loving from motionless sapphire.
Bitten weather, tremulous lights like the map.
Of your dark railroad track when you hold out your foot.
A chorus of lobsters at night un woke un sobbed comes to a halt before a serenity.
Pockets of broken glass converted into emerald.
Mother of the depths of my brow - your enriching stills your gleaming regard as though it were earth.
With the serendipity of the chimney where you sleep, a dream kills into techniques.
And productivities and graces.
Eager empire.
The tetrahedron functions to drink a system to its environment.
Only love, just the poppy, nothing but it.
Nature.
Our new splendor, our sensual leaf tetrahedra.
Pockets of graphite converted into wooden.
A point of view treads, trembles - it does not return.
No one here is waiting for the next home.
Foam.
You attracted yourself for kissing.
You rejoice my dead pin like a serendipitous wolverine to fresh nectarine.
I wish to make a loop amid, and every color, many times hidden in a femininity.