idyllic confession

By the eloquent forms of the night in your eyelashes the mornings are drawn in a failing sea. Through the fluorescent dermis of the sinuous petals, the rhythmic noise gently subjugates you. Clear water in your waterfall flows swiftly and bustlingly forks splendidly in your rosy hands. The ripened spikes intertwine without misgivings and at the limits of the sky they dissolve into flocks. …