Well, darling, I fenced off the park just off the coast when I passed through the rocky
forest.
The rice fields wave, poetry also stretches out the sky to the birds that fly because
they miss their cages.
The wind jogged before dawn in the middle of the rice fields between coconut trees
and broken wings, lost scorches, the cold's erasing the traces in the white sand with
its gloomy shadow and burning on the bones of light, such a strong longing.
Guarding my home for the beauty of space and stars, touching the soul to the rolling waves
and tempests, the color of the horizon spreads, jealousy through the wordful moon, find a
swish that embraces a heart, dripping water on the soft savannah, you and me.
The end.
Thank you.
Thank you.
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