Flesh Rising-Amber

You like to find what's not found on the ground but beneath of it lies the hill. In something grand smothered nomenclature, in the crest, distinct, yet it breaths alive. Feathers out of glass made of crystal, hidden beneath, do you think. Do you see what i see does it shrink. Dressed in white tears; bones of the dead you squeeze then withdraw and extend green each blade by the blade on the council they milking us all. Conical like so for the fasteners winged swiftness, it bore to the red heart, but/you my love are fragile, sweet substance dismounting design on it fell. Or a fruit, many dark manly names, locked up in rough brown skin, the flesh rising-amber, and granite it: the seed a wood stone, cuts out away and polished, nut butter-colored, formed like the cream washed away, but it's large, large enough to fill the famished palm of your hand. come then like the juicy stem as you rest on the grass which develops in the rougher round edges each sheet you have folded and the gleam of butterscotch in the narrow groove; whose morning-glory opens so blue and expresses one morning it's hot it's yellow it's you..