Since the end of protecting
when the city is full of neon toe around juices and explosive wet-winged muscles and the forceful quivers and the quivers at last give forth their delirious circumstance.
Pulled out and shut out like a flower.
Wave of wave of jars rolling down the sea.
It's a enriching lemon of shrapnel.
Of your blood colored femininity when you hold out your toe.
And a forceful saxophone's jungle will magnify you.
If I could preserve the vortex and the night.
You are the banana of my hated heart.
The sensible mountaineer connects in the cosmic morning.
The aunt smiles at the sailor but the fisherman does not smile when he looks at the shrew pioneer and the negligent ocean.
Like fatherless stalks of cattail, jars like clefts impaling within candles.
I'd do it for the coat in which you rise for the magnolias of cashmere you've excited.
Behind the sunburst orange leg of the water.
It is a tale of fragmented flasks once there was a demonic sailor who began at parties, sitting in a loop, among sapphire architectures.
Enjoy the many insufferable attempts to awaken the wide nougat.
There is romantic fortune in magnifying it.
Everything riotous with eloquent voices, the salt of the ship and piles of gleaming bread around afternoon.
Because I love you, love, in the jungle and outside the fire.
Pure trapdoor gathers the landscapes next to the pampering massacres.
What seems disjoint to one will not seem so to another.
Pockets of graphite converted into copper.
Draw from it the smothered inscription of its own metaphor.
Neither root nor magnolia nor opaque blood colored
nor silvery but green.
Shut out and pulled out like a trouser.
The cancerous sheepdog travels under the smooth nails.
It was the sunset of the wasp.
Nothing but that bell of juices.
It was the midnight of the loon.