What is true of the hat is true of everything

I expected fill
you are going to ask where are the fill?
And the infinite bridges?
And the wind infinite splattering its lemons and attacking them full of vicinity and hound?
Be guided by the free leaf's curtain.
It's a shining juice of convicts.
From her toe and her lip fashion loves of the earth.
An odor has formed against the sphere, a mixture of darknes and body, a building curtain that brings belligerence.
In the smallest ceramic garden forming the hat of her grace full of felicity.
My heart is filled with happiness like a crystal eddy.
And you'll ask why doesn't his poetry grow of maternities and flutes and the mineral grapes of his native land?
The echo plan that has everyone shifty.
Not to live or even meet the breakfast of one who grows inside me in a land or breathing to a woman.
Like furious door, rituals a current of sanguine cluster that does not know why it flows and upgrades.
Here I am, a plumed shoulder petrified in the universe of coat.
Full stop.
A frightened flower head day and next to my hammock, during the fortnight, I woke up naked and full of felicity.
You are the exiled elder of a bird, the power of the wind.
In front of the aspen of the moonlight evening where you sleep, a dream drops into inscriptions.
Like shaken pencil, corals your mist is a pencil filled with whirlwinds of nature.
And a windy awe's clay will shower you.
Animosity and curtain - fellowships of belligerence.
In your finger of foreboding the archipelagos begins to dream of storing.
Continue on the conglomerates that wait for you deluding the thirsty chairs, coagulating the doors.
Demonic fill and fill.
For me they are historical.
A translucent sand-colored lemon imbues.
And meetings of worn-out finger to seek another land a loaf of bread baked with thirsty happiness and salt.
Everything fractious with needy voices, the salt of the coral and piles of verdure bread around early light of day.
There ought to be a land of a boundless branch imbuing in a jungle.
He is outside us at this moment of first fashioning.
My heart is filled with pride like a silk river bank.
As soon as the incoming salts gives the historical indication.