"Reflectional Gift"
A retro heaven, the single paradise at lips of truth,
-----Turns up its ninth cloud,
Almost to help on the beauty of discovery,
When flowing into ears growing up, to sign your attention,
----Thus you grow as used to it, when,
For leading entrance of reflection, you arrive it.
Affairs on the gamble may serve as returns, for to ugly light,
Before we stage this mind between weathered dishes,
I see that smooth heat,
When to sizzle I break the hug,
Just after energy is put on memory to dance as wish.
Someone comes as he is not, so as to hide behind music,
Beyond standards without barriers.
Thus time has no death to sand age, although it is expansion of survival,
In the change of weight to passing filth away,
When I play on the seasoning of temperature.
There is low action to ducks and videos,
Something to record of feeling,
Strength of the connection between dimensions,
As to freedom of information and authority over pressure.
During a goal in the air, more friends have purpose.
Is it wise to flip the switch with no meaning? Rendezvous?
A subject is how the finger rises, an eclipse before its direction.
It’s sublimation of disasters which transforms beauty,
Like a coastal parlor when exhaustion is indigo,
-----While free radio moves its thud,
Although we can discuss vital magnetism:
Pleasing mercy, speechless moral, California amapola,
Long thirst against a cute degree, deflectors above regolith,
A grown pitch around candy bread that is eternity to bridge off illusion.
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