The Deep Tree

Deep as alvaro as get some land as area chicago as velvet as advanced as little walter at study in califas curved as service as our excessive obedience in barbados proved on me as ma is how damn deep we are.

We who well we is who we are and deep as the strife that comes as the open aging of our beautiful tree in the violin garden hiding in front of hello it’s me as we wonder what the bottom of the new ohio sound like.

Because we wait on us on floe and bend and through the starry incident of who we wait on and how we go and where we go and how we get to where we wait on as here go some beautiful time machine, beautiful tree.

If I curve with you where we gon’ go as pretty as our song flew as the way all our questions burn through customs like a progress dug through that scape my mama painted on my skirt as a new stockade of flowers.

It’s a negro presentation sewed up in the underside of that quitan ruse and our repetition is also esmereldan as our strandedness glide from rub to tap to murmur of different blooms as we are esmereldan we are esmereldan.

Gras and held as the barbecue de la tierra are we who are as blur as black as we can blue, untypically, completely and beautifully and ardently arbor in fold as our earthly flaw this evening as lorenzo leaps in and says, “We’re off!”