Sometimes I have to remind myself the sea was before blue.
I gave up on you
before Love with which my pen
is something which still happens to the dead.
Oh, I think of you like Keanu...
Still, I bet your Coliseum is a real home foam
Lyric Poetry, you're all Posted Comments and shit like that
Single is what (charming blogger) you give your Roman Sun
Love to work homeless if you are a poet
(for belief? place a lion-fat Sonnet. right Here
The thing about feeling in language is
It is or else it's again
A Sonnet is not necessarily that which hates human gruel
You must have it confused with some other Fool
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