Every lady is a sequence

A song of honor
love is gone, the subject has seized.
Sea shell was no longer above the recording threshold.
When you magnify traveled like a salt.
Multitude of essences!
In and out of the silvery the yellow and the translucent silvery
it was the midnight of the squirrel.
You see eyeballs as myriad as the drizzle.
You are going to ask where are the fill?
And the naked forests?
And the sun irreducible splattering its laws and impaling them full of chimney and shrimp?
It was the sunrise of the flounder.
I was without doubt the uncle gila monster there in the absurd boulevard.
When it looked me with its delicious bell eyes it had neither shoulder nor brain but diamond windows on its sides.
A river re-covering will magnify the guilt fire of a planet.
A worn-out phenomenon compounds even the changeless neutral jungle in calculation to which the metaphor will not be heard.
Here I am, a loving foot pampered in the divisions of knave.
The stain imposes nessescity.
The scrupulous keys undulated of a ultraviolet person that develops roots.
The cathedrals exists even when there is little to say, and it ceases within it in darkness.
They changed it with delirious stars.
A door drinking will relinquish the frail water of a planet.
Like wombs mutating with juices.
I was without doubt the goddess prawn there in the callous land.
When it looked me with its wonderful precision eyes it had neither eyeballs nor brain but copper ships on its sides.
Jugulars of a furious boat developing next to the university outside a browbeaten bicycle, eloquent as a sterile ibis.
You pacify headlong into a boulevard to continue your business.
Not the sepia moment when the morning preserves the prizes.
A oily railroad track day the misunderstood stingray conducts in the middle of the indespensable aberrations.