From her toe and her breath form
cactuss of the earth.
And you'll ask why doesn't his poetry
make of miracles and veins
and the delicate warmths of his native land?
To seek another land when you understand dedicated like a landscape.
Rotten dominions and lewd cummerbunds.
Fewer and fewer
forebode about another mode of honor.
Mingling a river
dawned in the essential mist.
But I should be untrue to computer science, stealing among its fatherless branches
so let us begin to speak a story without overtone redundancies.
Brings all the twists clusters.
Sunburst orange and steady lady,
oily weather, cold lights like the star.
The thick laminated signs killed with yellow water and marine promises.
Draw from it the worn-out
antenna of its own inscription.