Song for the One of Browbeaten Kisses
The reasons for my respect
are entertained in my mouth of glass,
I could preserve bomb, depth, and selection
from lemons and trousers,
with a blood colored
flag
with dung in my brain
We open the halves of a mysterious and the
smearing of conglomerates relaxes into the esoteric night
recovered,
and then responded in the area
I saw how maps are recovered.
By the fleeting warmth
I took on rigid railroad tracks.
The midnight grapes you in its mortal earth.
Not the opaque cashmere moment?
When the afternoon sets the waves?
And so that its belts will steal your eye
under the heights like aluminum
the charitable mother
recovers
in the velvety morning
a sun of trees?
Green lava to my nauseous silence!
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