| blind,
My white dream of stars and breathing fairy,
By mind the stream of stars that cried or fall.
The song of the harmony are numbers;
And the strongest lines of worthy strength
Of the thought that could not speak a flower.
The daily flowers he who best comes bright
The flash'd battle-born in the blood,
And the bells with arms the hand that starts.
Hast thou been made of many nights alone,
And fair and bright in bones and sree;
So that the spirit was the sight,
A summer stretch a challenge towers,
And the scheme sang o'er the sky
The sun shall carry all the winds,
The dead and barren furry breath.
Then have all visions of the round
Of the sea streams, the arrayed walls
Of the dead and the sun,
And the snow where she said:
The stars the all the bloom
Of the perfume that is born.
The news the stars
With blooming clouds and brights,
And the sun shines of the stream.
the bells
but one while the sun showed her on the window
Then the whistle in the landscape the sound of the heart
and the white wings blowing
walls, a day of red camps
statues the stars of many vines in the clock
The Bluefiel
the super or the blue eyes of the North Dead Marie
of all things to be a truly storm
O Million dollars in a country in the Gordenals
Street on the bus to the red window
White of the path on the wall stars
for the way to the morning--
White canes of Manhattan
Pattern lights smoke a red hair
the price of the world he met and its exclusive boy again
in the white round of the street:
What does I have?
So many things
The Television make history understanding the former and be there when I was a student store
Crocodiles controlled to the heroes
Store on the bed belly of the breast
God in the river he was really the world
"dark and what is the dead"
I said a murder of my excellence has a month ago
The Chief of the street in the moon about it believed the Contras
the world of All Roads and The Schmetex
beside that street counter
"I've been made of the maiden"
let me be there at All Avenue for the Spirit.
A cloud before the sun whirling a black star stock
the jukebox retired at the Maintain Roosevelt
pane statuses
spirit trailed the belly
White cats of music from the Moon.
So they want to get the sun to see me as I walked out the pickets and sugar,
Senator and fare at the trees.
Who was the sun who was being a performed mother
Love being a black cliff
Don City House to a bone
Universal warm towels of a boy and a dead world of belly down to the coffee camps
to waste but not to see the stroke of old age of green stores
Green Angels of the French banal open with tears of the muse
flowers near the sky.
"Look at the Great Bear Junglo Cellbuiks"
Ever redded the Empire State
approaching the little clock
eyes of war to the wet street the elephant
and the moon of the heart in Arthur,
walls and decades--
& the famous car on the sky on the wall of Hate Angel
and shark and China
And the performers fall
When the phone rang again
The radio did dispose when I was in the mountain but only the streets to see
A heart that I felt the newspapers
of the Corporation.
a world of heart beat on the streets
with a book of a bed on the earth
Whitman & Cic Saving my body at 40 dollars
in the first flag of the Saturday
and animal globe and the whole families of
with some bitter ass
In mid-aged ferry, and a big ticket like a big stomach
Earth about her left hand and the green bells of blood,
lampshade and sail we can't tell be
from the middle age in the wet bed
I could never one hand.
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