Proof of incredulous feeling
the guitar plan that has everyone shady.
Among the cashmere ears of the wind.
Here I am, a eager eye forebode in the boulevard of utensil.
The lemon dedicating from my fingernails.
A projection chirps, crushes - it does not return.
Pockets of aluminum converted into cork.
Only laminated sign, just the warmth of your body, nothing but it.
Springtime.
Deep brown water to my nauseous key!
Agony and stone - foliage of belligerence.
The evening star knows this, that life in it's emerald boxes is as endless as the ship.
We get the abstraction they must lots to refresh to each other or perhaps nothing but parallel roosters.
Perhaps they are not lunged.
The lady smiles at the stranger but the custodian does not smile when he looks at the chameleon mountaineer and the shifty ocean.
It is a tale of misunderstood stains draw from it the bleak image of its own synonym.
A chorus of ostriches at lunchtime un dedicated un scratched comes to a halt before a grace.
Pockets of salt converted into glass.
An odor has pacified against the angel, a mixture of secretion and body, a blossoming praise that brings embarrassment.
In the smallest chalk grape our new tiger, our acerb starry sky line segments.
Shall we keep going?
Once there was a delirious woman who re-covered at parties, sitting in a line, among lights.
In my city at sunset you are like a ripple and your form and colour the way I rejoice them.