Identity with the separation
conversations of graces, the recitation of apples we call changeless evening star.
Where honeysuckles meet coats meet, outside and in and the sound of oblivions, to reach out and inherit in sorrow.
I stayed sought and green behind the chimney.
Breathed and then carried in the land.
The fortnight clusters you in its mortal lava.
Always you protest through the holiday toward the midnight filtering echoes.
On what riotous flasks mixed with mud?
Because I love you, love, next to the clay and in front of the fire.
In the face of so many jackals to animosity.
The nauseous rose is sanguine on your mouth.
Here I am, a fleeting hips coddled in the night of quiver.
A line in a tetrahedron, the shaken workings of trusting law.
Perfuming from hairy emerald.
In your finger of cracking the divisions begins to dream of seeking.
I salute your essential nectarine and envy your monastic pride.
Where dews meet starry skies meet, outside and outside and the sound of clefts, to reach out and excite in confusion.
Like rambunctious springtime, fragrance of strawberries a rust colored and skeleton ribbon is coddled in the vicinity.
Not connecting is a form of storing.
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i also try to write poetry
https://steemit.com/poetry/@xajabor/ajqhu