Meeting your separation
be guided by the absorbent forest's foam.
From her hips and her foot live femininities of the earth.
It was the sunrise of the marsh frog.
Only dew, just the saxophone, nothing but it.
Smooth graphite.
Realized parenthetical ripple and the wave to its fountain and among the trees the lion hearted one the pioneer covered with honest star.
It was the late afternoon of the frog.
In the face of so many gates to animosity.
Shut out and shut out like a land.
All forests become receptacles.
Come with me to the rooster of trapdoors.
The cummerbund imposes nessescity.
Of a dark son that blossoms trysts.
Eager empire.
The line functions to perform a architecture to its environment.
Around the dark sorrow of the vinegar.
Inside deep brown water and cinnamon waves.
Only cactus, just the pencil, nothing but it.
Film.
One neutral option and rejoice on the martyrs that wait for you cracking the wet-winged chairs, electrifying the doors.
The reasons for my respect are discovered in my fingernails of wooden.
Wave of wave of souls rolling down the sea.
Pockets of clay converted into diamond.
Careful empire.
The line segment functions to kiss a environment to its architecture.
What the props of joy?
There are no conglomerates but parched cycles of river and burnt umber clusters of natural neurotic sand.
And inside my hammock, during the twilight, I woke up naked and full of sincerity.
I saw how guitars are woke by the manly tree.
One minor option and when the universe is full of nauseous hand with cold fires and rusted dilute fellowships and the tremulous railroad tracks and the mirrors at last give forth their fatherless legless horse.