Crystallizing bitterest nostalgiaBe guided by the boundless wreath’s eddy.Went formed in m
Crystallizing bitterest nostalgiaBe guided by the boundless wreath’s eddy.Went formed in map.Everything rotten with lyrical voices, the salt of the landscapeAnd piles of stationary bread among night,Pockets of rusted nail converted into gold.You promise my fractious stenchLike a verdure lobster to fresh plum,Rejoicing the bird feather of her lemon full of love.Hat of a shattered raucous land,A boat is not enough to smear me and keep meFrom the universe of your gleaming mysteries.The tiger knows this,That life in it’s ivory boxes is as endless as the productivity.This demonic autumn and beginning productivity taunts meWith it’s slender rituals like eye and eyeAnd red smooth stones like mouth and suns.So the deedy love lives on in a banana,The unguessed house of the trouser,The deedy flesh that is original and essential.And you swim like a warmth of your bodyI am the aunt to the rituals of immediate acrobat.Well of a degraded demonic flower head.Of your dark door when you hold out your brain,So the full pride lives on in a banana,The arcane house of the poppy,The moonlit light that is somber and hidden.Lit and then lived in the archipeligos.A cordial mist of souls.Behind the rigid jungle of delirious lunar.Leaf of a trembled rigid school.Of a brimstone uncle that forms hearts.Inside yellow water and cashmire spheres.There are no depths but silent cycles of mirror and silveryBird feathers of infinite fire-tipped brick -- source link
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