hidden consciousness. What is the secret bed, home hidden and firm, and only space flame and burning, cropped close and solitude, music presented in the instant dense, whose deployment is already the intensity and the jab, the sharpness and edge, the caress of dark heat, pressing, silent.
Of all these feelings we get firsts in love water flowing beyond desire, which gives only drops slightly moisturizing the lips, sliding down the throat with a capacity of grazing for mild passes the threshold of satiety, without thirst, however, produce anything after that arborescence ambitious distance drunk in the hungry eyes, light that turns on and then left off, just after a small explosion and pride collection.
Yet the absence is where this vibe, where it is filled, lack fullness which draws its shadow, in the absence where we are born to the needs of others and our own soul swollen and compact, sweet tense, solemn humility, blind in the protection of the material itself that is sufficient and is filled. Appetite for eternity
wins now, space seeds about to overflow and deployed, prayer and mystery. Everything you saw and beautifies, the abundant and blooms, the face of the very substance that is expected and in contemplation, in secret, in sluggish light in interior tickle. Guessed presence, intuition, caring agony and exalts happily appear. Wherein lies
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