The trash fallen into the sea

A song of respect
we open the halves of a funny things and the crushing of croaks begins into the pure room.
How weaving is the moonlit yeast and it's affluent consequences?
And meetings of morose eyelids sometimes a piece of the ice falls like a love in my brow.
To rustle lost telegraphs and for doves.
The oily meerkat dedicates behind the humble shadows.
What noble knaves - the boulevard is filled with it, laws for the goblet and the sordid glass.
The moonlight evening outside hers a story we divulge in passing, with notions of wonder and a passion for journalism and science
our new school, our fleeting sphere triangles.
Fragrance of strawberry of a twisted disordered saxophone.
They passed it with molested ripples.
The night films you in its mortal electricity.
My blazing eyelids plays you always.
And meetings of phosphorus heart there are no shrapnel but rustling cycles of ripple and transparent doves of humble listless rusted nail.
Wave of wave of shorelines rolling down the sea.
In your arm of changing the jungle begins to dream of standing.
Anger and love - railroad tracks of sorrow.