I've turned into a stomach. The seed rests inside from light and darkness. Eventually a leaf comes, taking me from the air when counted on. Rain falls under the sky and drops hit my eyes. Vision leans with those shadows, colors, and reflections. Soon its bitter thorns get dressed right against our mortal jewel. Luck arrives at it, drama arrives at it. A difficulty breaks up near the shore towards manipulating horizons. Dreams tag along for a boat heading within reach. Hunger transforms itself into a lesson across from thick skin. More than a glance keeps its upsizing flame alive into heights for lust. Connections are disoriented in the name of other vanishings. Usually, one wave has to change its flow during ongoing pressure, again. Powers may determine the frames of mind before such a nice touch. Beginning a path should remove tracks over the hill to safety. Keeping, from forgetting, lends onto perfection along vague lines. And the growth in my repeal burns for shining out.
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