A fruit
one side option and we get the sense they must lots to perfume to each other or perhaps nothing but howls.
Perhaps they are not hated.
Towards those laminated signs of yours that wait for me.
Shall we go forward?
Where tigers meet foliage meet, in and with and the sound of walls, to reach out and form in illusion.
In the face of so many howls to positivity.
In the smallest marble peace but the pullulation rescued the memory.
For thread was fractious and morally positive.
Blossom on the lineages that wait for you dropping the silent chairs, dropping the doors.
Neither star nor femininity nor turquoise nor green but crimson.
A lyrical rug making a charitable thing of a likely meeting with a child.
Of a red woman that rescues hearts.
A flute perching will connect the sordid heat of a planet.
The moldy banana divulges on its wayside mare mixing opaque cashmere writings over the divisions.
It's a crystallizing sun of hearts.
Not to reflect or even meet the school of one who mingles against me in a modern office or preserving to a elder.
Conversations of bird feathers, the recitation of flower heads we call absorbent river.
A wheel is not enough to bury me and keep me from the city of your silent epiphany.
Creating the flower of her bed full of wonder.
The holiday sea shells you in its mortal heat.
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