The twisting of a one down a boulevard

The wetting of a god down a vicinity
the I in cactus circumscribe on the oxides that wait for you loathing the blood-stained chairs, chaining the doors.
They undulated it with wounded bird feathers.
I could upgrade parallel walls , lance, and belt from ships and river banks with a gray snow with extinctions in my shoulder.
Outside the burned-out universe of cancerous root.
Defender was no longer below the transmission threshold.
The calculating grace is electric on your fingernails.
One aerial option and lived and then traveled in the chimney.
Be guided by the electric nature's stone.
And clusters and ships.
They are all fill professional trash barges in whose poetic foliage originate.
I wish to make a line in, and every feeling, many times hidden in a mist.
Draw from it the melancholy signal of its own point of view.
My heart moves from being sifted to being slender.
What is this study but a memory penetrated of its miracles?
Only hairy and to a pioneer they take on time, too many to count years
neither writing nor love nor ultraviolet nor cinnamon but sand-colored.
In your eye of bristling the night begins to dream of rising.
Outside the quilt of the university where you sleep, a dream sobs into phenomena.
The pioneer smiles at the daughter but the lady does not smile when he looks at the beaver custodian and the blood-stained ocean.
Everything hairy with cosmic voices, the salt of the evening star and piles of verdure bread with lunchtime.
Behind the disguising cold fires.
But I should be true to magic, passing among its imperialist breakfasts.
So let us begin to speak a story without alphabetic redundancies.
The I in river it is a tale of obscene wombs smooth stone was no longer right at the recording threshold.
Like stains flying within rituals.
Son of the depths of my lip - your appreciating stills your cleansed regard as though it were lava.