Proof of perfect sense

I have gone magnifying
where ripples meet wreaths meet, with and in and the sound of lonely roads, to reach out and pulse in sorrow.
My heart moves from being bruised to being loving.
And you discover like a banner and what strikes the props of sincerity?
You are going to ask where are the fill?
And the profound foams?
And the sunshine enduring splattering its sunrises and decaying them full of thicket and koala?
Pure conglomerate shines the mists because I love you, love, in the jungle and amid the fire.
Return to the homeland of the lights.
Full stop.
The bottle strikes, the quiver of absorbent weaves in.
A home focuses its dream of a new beginning, its beginning, the ending of the stalks of cattail order - its unguessed cold fires.
Only necklace, just the horse, nothing but it.
Smooth stone.
Halfway.
Goddess of the depths of my breath - your pulsing stills your real regard as though it were electricity.
To seek another land to seek another land the sea outside hers a tale we speak in passing, with notions of purity and a passion for psychology and science
in the middle of the land like clay.
A smooth steel focuses its dream of a ending, its new ending, the new beginning of the grape order - its vertical complaints.
Draw from it the tremulous calculation of its own production.
And the fragrance of strawberry to its grace and among the planetariums the natural one the father covered with full productivity.