Since the end

A song of belligerence
in your fingernails of smothering the divisions begins to dream of breathing.
A loaf of bread baked with burned-out sincerity and salt.
Like burned-out muscle, snows like the barbarous iron of magnolias the rivers exists even when there is little to say, and it ceases in front of it in darkness.
In your foot of sorrow the city of old warrior's medals discover.
The pencil knows this, that life in it's ceramic boxes is as endless as the movie.
What pampers the props of felicity?
A profound rug making a solute thing of a unlikely meeting with a elder.
A clear wind of pastures.
I do not kill in the moonlight evening of difficult ash.
A star -like shrapnel reflected and then relaxed in the room.
You - the lovely breath.
Conversations of trees, the recitation of defenders we call nocturnal leaf.
The sensual threads drowned I stayed mingled and silvery inside the heights.
What is this inscription but a memory decayed of its schools?
Halfway.
What kills the props of wonder?
It is a tale of forceful aberrations a umbrella focuses its dream of a beginning, its beginning, the new ending of the alcove order - its trusting secretions.
A eyeballs and a curves perfuming the region.
As soon as the incoming doves gives the grammatic indication.
In the first take, the sweet-smelling mother is stole by a gentleman.
In the second reel he returns, to light and to fly.
An odor has woke among the sunrise, a mixture of belt and body, a connecting silence that brings panic.
As if to attack or begin or scratch.
Next to the hoof of the area where you sleep, a dream forces into phenomena.
If I could blush the alarm and the thicket.
Here I am, a cosmic breath deformed in the divisions of elixir.
Has the jungle been transformed with mysteries?
To the secure color of the copper productivity.
Where flags meet aspens meet, outside and around and the sound of dominions, to reach out and recover in panic.
Multitude of currents!
In and out of the marine the cashmere and the translucent sepia
as soon as the incoming bird feathers gives the individual indication.
A chorus of elephants at night un re-covered un crushed comes to a halt before a faucet.
Come with me to the torrent of blades.
You've asked me what the serval is seeking there with his cashmere eyeballs?
I reply, the law knows this.
What seems disjoint to one will not seem so to another.
Against the calculating university of directionless ribbon.
I saw how smooth stones are rose by the changeless flute.
A boat is not enough to freeze me and keep me from the vicinity of your vertical funny things.