there is no sense of god to be found my knees where the heart and heat scorching inside of that needs i’m a creep, i plead for misdeed
the box smells the greatest from afar could i only have a sense, i would feel that wings are shining under her shell and i take the way to the far strawberry bush and then
i am dropping into your blossoms rubbed into a swarm it’s late it’s late i am going forward going backward going that constantly
no shiver harms him no colour blinds him and nothing hurts