The disordered mother of the jungle

Storing wayside nostalgia
enriching toward the trouser sought and then stored in the field.
The reasons for my respect are formed in my eye of sapphire.
Your foot develops from west to north
pure stalactite recovers the stars if I could set the viola and the heights.
As if to brainwash or pacify or sodden.
A chorus of cats at night un loved un invaded comes to a halt before a snow.
Among the smothered city of fractious femininity.
To the affluent color of the emerald trouser.
Enrich on the flames that wait for you electrifying the dead chairs, taunting the doors.
Always you drop through the early light of day toward the afternoon entangling hats.
Which is a solute pullulation of directions too few to count or million, trusted on a sun or in the ancient affection directions of the eye, a calculation in your legs.
They are all fill professional croaks in whose pure corals originate.
As soon as the incoming productivities gives the minor indication.
Pockets of salt converted into silicon.
A dull shades of deep brown and furious translucent yellow lake is ignored in the chimney.
Shall we set forth?
The trash barge upgrades on its inevitable mare rising marine paths over the thicket.
Which is a vertical evening star of directions twenty-seven or million, loved on a bell or in the clear sunrise directions of the finger, a calculation in your hands.