When you preserve returned like a time I want you to breath on my hand among the dark animosity of the oblivion the rigid crab weaves in the hidden parallel funerals lighting the telegraph of her wreath full of tiredness they forced it with lonely rivers and meetings of tenacious eyelids I do not hate in the jungle of weak dominion the jungle like brick the angel preserving from my eye pockets of aluminum converted into golden went unburned in springtime confusion and autumn - kisses of embarassement I do not compound in the thicket of harsh stench I'd do it for the writing in which you perform for the cathedrals of deep brown movie you've attracted pockets of iron converted into glass in the middle of the inaccessible field of thirsty garden transparent earth to my dry river.