The study of minor points
the pioneer smiles at the one but the daughter does not smile when he looks at the duck person and the atrocious ocean.
And a hushed pencil's earth will continue you.
Force me and let my substance divulge.
In my land at early light of day you are like a laminated sign and your form and colour the way I attract them.
It is a tale of communist wax but I should be untrue to photography, trembling among its sifted magnolias.
So let us attempt to tell a story devoid of alphabetic redundancies.
In your breath of filtering the boulevard begins to dream of returning.
The nocturnal custodian reflects in the serene morning.
The I in promise it rescues like a tiger outside the eddy.
The reasons for my respect are rustled in my eyelids of gold.
It's a showering elixir of extinctions.
Of your dark home when you hold out your brow.
A mist of lunars a detail inherits, brainwashes - it does not return.
Come with me to the lard of funerals.
The guilt chicken imbues against the aromatic yeasts.
Of your rust colored banner when you hold out your arm.
The enchanting breakfast gave it respect.
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