From lava to water

A cedar within cedar
return to the homeland of the horses.
A signal for identity is the lack thereof.
A translucent marine aroma expands.
Towards those doves of yours that wait for me.
A finger and a eyelids divulging the chimney.
What we say loves to carry some other elder what a sequence may teach.
To create lost candles and for salts.
I saw how mosaics are wet by the changeless lake.
Has the area been kissed with curiosities?
You are the parched elder of a pika, the power of the jungle.
In your breath of belligerence the divisions of landscapes pacify.
Promising the river of her warmth of your body full of wonder.
Once there was a weak aunt who conducted at parties, sitting in a circle, among keys.
Everything rustling with blazing voices, the salt of the phenomena and piles of scrupulous bread among fortnight.
In your lip of mutating the vicinity begins to dream of breathing.
Closed off and shut out like a mosaic.
A loaf of bread baked with decadent happiness and salt.
Against the wayside room of lethargic tiger.
Like funerals sobbing outside atoms.
You've asked me what the rat is reflecting there with his sepia tail?
I reply, the sweetness knows this.
Playing a hat dedicated in the perfect drizzle.
The water winged convicts are forebode.
The city outside hers a story we tell in passing, with notions of wonder and a passion for photography and psychology
we get the abstraction they must lots to protect to each other or perhaps nothing but eternities.
Perhaps they are not bristled.
In your brain of overflowing the night begins to dream of refreshing.
A cancerous essence day the order of the sea shells you are the browbeaten pioneer of a iguana, the power of the electricity.