Places to defer: To a salty justice Soap and a question worth Please be my ought, a common request with a shrill vice?
Salt seems to be my only hope... Stoic rewards and harrowing few's, of callousness Aside, I see the providence of stillness, take root With a smile and a sharing behalf, I wonder if I bless...?
Stong winds may disapprove... Long looks at no-where's imagination... Standing well in front, savagery in back with no love... And the anarchy of that smile, anxious and doting on silent...
Nightmares, with a reaching lead of simplicity A lip of service and dissuasion, set too high For a requited moment, to tell the wishes we imply, inherently Have the yearning before a seldom seen, angel understands cry...
Given the time, given the lucid rhyme Of patience and its virtue, your remembering Of a long sated and twisted form to compare, the youth of time? Has a voice struck with means, meager enough to swear we...
Shoulder A rising fortune of senses alive, set to aches and plains Of worlds redeemed, by a wish we made, with a meant nerve Will you marry me, is even a voice to martyr beyond the call of the rains...?
Winning the smile, the vengeance of winter seems to be, us?