Green House Gasses

The forest runs for miles and miles. Her moon the face it slips right over me. The portrait of a lady sitting I help down. Mourning ebbs the tide. Moving earth and stripping trees of leaves. Bushes where I learned not burnt. and useless clouds are judged unnecessary. Because my pleasure even now you swell, I aged. A sea of milk mistaken as. The breast it's tip is but a hill of grace now dry. The verdict of our death, her milk the sea it knows. I wish to see a humming bird to hear it's song I speak against the love of daddies little girl. Humming her sweet song a song that's better sweet.