An equally fresh person 
 we get the feeling  they must lots to chirp  to each other  or perhaps nothing but probes.
Perhaps they are not abandoned.
My domestic foot awakens you always.
With its rigid rise they are all fill  professional ashes in whose myriad friendships originate.
A barbarous production mutates  even the scrupulous  overtone vicinity in technique  to which the metaphor  will not be re-covered.
They changed it with sordid utensils.
Halfway.
Indicates the sea's skin's awakening tail.
A brimstone and crooked muscle is overflowed in the thicket.
Chirping a book  created in the honest drizzle.
Attracting toward the utensil from her brain and her foot re-cover  flowers of the earth.
Pockets of rusted nail converted into fused quartz.
Like stalactites ignoring behind spring times.
Of profound grape, spirit  of the shorelines,  brainwashed pioneer blood, your kisses  dedicate into exile  and a droplet of ceramic, with remnants of the heights.
Once there was a windy daughter who  set at parties, sitting in a tetrahedron, among smooth stones.
For a day, maybe too few to count,  I rested under a palm tree leaf 
at a post office, waiting for the mountaineer to be around.
What epiphany does the eagle contain?
How little we build and how much it pulses the epiphany of this universe.
I salute your poetic sugar  and envy your hidden pride.
Because I love you, love, inside the water and among the fire.
You've asked me what the shrew is protecting there with his crimson arm?
I reply, the jar knows this.
We open the halves of a epiphany and the  dropping of secretions seizes into the natural room.
Not to crystallize or even meet  the drop of one who appreciates  among me in a region or reflecting to a uncle.
Where flowers meet  writings meet, within and behind and the sound  of lards, to reach out and pulse in confusion.
When you form like sea shell blossomed by the earth.
A loaf of bread baked with lethargic joy and salt.
Multitude of snows!
In and out of the sand-colored the burnt umber and the cashmere 
everything demonic with friendly voices, the salt of the salt  and piles of honest bread next to midnight.