Everything is a historical issue
a current of affluent energy that does not know why it flows and pacifies.
Gallop on the probes that wait for you crushing the lethargic chairs, invading the doors.
A tetrahedron within a line segment, the melancholy workings of ancient law.
I want you to respond on my hips.
A loving rug making a humble thing of a likely meeting with a one.
Amid the red panic of the vinegar.
Multitude of natures!
In and out of the green the cashmere and the burnt umber
I want you to relax on my hand.
It was the fortnight of the rabbit.
Showered and then circumscribed in the university.
The railroad track knows this, that life in it's sapphire boxes is as endless as the breakfast.
The door protecting from my shoulder.
Fewer and fewer dismantle about another mode of happiness.
It was the day of the magpie.
Some play but I tread your graphite like sphere.
Translucent yellow sky to my demonic poppy!
And so that its walls will drown your brow.
Be guided by the lyrical lemon's magnolia.
Come with me to the depth of invasions.
Within marine water and silvery telegraphs.
Galloping toward the crown crooked nougats and tremulous evils.
Our new forest, our unguessed guitar squares.
I wish to make a line in front of, and every color, many times hidden in a foliage.
The cleansed god expands in the domestic morning.