Whip up a sweat. A spur to the blood. Hoof to spray. The sky is blue and night of stars. Mane in the wind. Galloping to the narrow shore. And no strength.
The skin surface in the smoke of cigarette. Slippery look through the window. Thoughts foam over the edge. The viscosity of the days, and rain forecast. The sweetness of the speeches and the fear of judgment. The narrowness of the tactics of unpredictability. Strategy is not certain and the hypocrisy of the PUD. The snowshoe on the ground and the pogo stick in quicksand. Flag in the wind, but not blowing. All do not end up all a bit. And I would be happy. Yes itching.
The sight seemed to freeze. The cranes are flying. Forest. To be. To understand. To stop. To gain a foothold on the borders.
Rude. Numbness weakness. Action. Not to show it. Scary. Stroke the fur of a dog spray. And dirty everything. The bull on the spot. And the people around. But I want to. Failure.
Youth will explode with emotion. People. And right there. And the world does not care. A black spot on the Wallpaper. The whole tragedy. Again repair. And waterfall all. The crunch of paper, the liquid from hands, face and eyes concrete - a trifle on the road.
Whip up a sweat. A spur to the blood. Hoof to spray.