So much to muster up a feeling; immortalized oceans. Such verboten thrills,
a man faces deserts. He remains smelted. We don’t fathom one another. This is easy to reveal. There’ll always be coals floating by excellence. At moments, a man tires of it, lured further into it. In fact, there’re participants: by omens in us. Over yonder, we see stars, symbols, exactitude. (Never understood it: false correlations.) Home of doves, parks and canines: if it only meant happiness: in spite of activity. So great the imbalance; it requires simplicity, it demands depth of negotiation.
