Away from their profundity of surface.
How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,
The mortal architect had brought to life,
In Florida, it's strawberry season—
Point, after all, when finally one reaches
The pain of being born into matter.
will be penciled on the coffeeshop menus.
Place of absorbing snow, itself to be
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
But snow has gathered there, has piled up,
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Against this sky no longer of our world.
Père and Mère Chose could be in conversation
Sits at the limit of a kind of world
"Be off!" say Winter's snows;
Seems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.
Writhing their stunted limbs,
Glimmering of light:
How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,
The mortal architect had brought to life,
In Florida, it's strawberry season—
Point, after all, when finally one reaches
The pain of being born into matter.
will be penciled on the coffeeshop menus.
Place of absorbing snow, itself to be
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
But snow has gathered there, has piled up,
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Against this sky no longer of our world.
Père and Mère Chose could be in conversation
Sits at the limit of a kind of world
"Be off!" say Winter's snows;
Seems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.
Writhing their stunted limbs,
Glimmering of light:
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