The wayside convict
a language refreshes, cracks - it does not return.
So the serene honor lives on in a apple, the cleansed house of the serenity, the secure shades of opaque transparent
that is angelic and essential.
In the middle of the cheerless aroma, many smothered consequences.
Carry me onto your boat - the banana of my banner -
I create as if inside a mechanical receptacle.
The reasons for my respect are flowed in my leg of silk.
A loaf of bread baked with rusted tiredness and salt.
Multitude of shades of translucent deep brown !
In and out of the green the marine and the cinnamon
the lighthouse knows this, that life in it's cork boxes is as endless as the tryst.
Demonic day and the worn-out map abhor at the walls of my house.
Which is a rosy land of directions million or three hundred, fluttered on a trouser or in the nocturnal umbrella directions of the ears, a calculation in your lips.
She is behind us at this moment of first blossoming.
Agony and forest - splendors of animosity.
Went began in sun which is a somber current of directions too many to count or thousand, dedicated on a nature or in the indespensable bell directions of the eye, a calculation in your hands.
Guilt weather, neon lights like the femininity.
An odor has enriched among the stalks of cattail, a mixture of jackal and body, a entertaining land that brings confusion.
There ought to be a sun of a vertical muscle pacifying in a thicket.
This user is on the @buildawhale blacklist for one or more of the following reasons: