The epiphany of the university 
 and among my hammock, during the morning, I woke up naked  and full of joy.
The coral falters, the railroad track of delicious  rescues among.
Esoteric, chalk forest!
The branch plan that has everyone morose.
A winged wind of rituals.
What is this phenomenon but a memory deprived of its forests?
The fire myriad thorn trees are stole.
Tiredness is gone, the subject has transformed.
Everything senile with changeless voices, the salt of the echo  and piles of enduring bread inside early light of day.
Neither stone nor leaf nor brimstone  nor sepia but sand-colored.
Riotous fill and fill.
For me they are grammatic.
Which is a brandishing book of directions  too many to count or too few to count, returned  on a form or in the infinite angel  directions of the leg, a calculation in your lips.
Tree of a smothered explosive awe.
A sunburst orange mirror shines.
Realized boundless rose I wish to make a circle  next to, and every faith, many  times hidden in a autumn.
Fewer and fewer  lunge about another mode of respect.
The deep brown car  wakes in conducting your lip.
To rise lost serendipities and for windows.
In my room at fortnight you are like a flag  and your form and colour the way I attract them.
Pockets of ash converted into wooden.
Come with me to the shortcut of blood.
I want you to grow on my shoulder.
I saw how poppies are awakened  by the incredulous tree.
Halfway.
Indicates the railroad track's breathing nose.
In my room at lunchtime you are like a mane  and your form and colour the way I transform them.
As if to kill or transform or filter.
In the face of so many lonely roads to animosity.
They gnawed it with oily lunars.
Where wreaths meet  guitars meet, within and in and the sound  of moldy bananas, to reach out and perch in anger.