You are, and that you are not a mystery yarn.
of six small voice, so like a snail hiding in you waiting for the storm to wake her, so quick to erase the impression that it is tempting to let shyness and blowing ear over the groove of the neck.
a sword six, thin and rough, but only to hurt me quick to draw his saber teeth that give the thrust always the same.
a thread of smoke six or more labile than necessary, more quickly than it should, pie 'quick, sharp in his throat when your name is stagnant, dark face when my name is stagnating.
a blade of grass six flessile, Young, tender, only. Feed my pastures, hide the ambush, you allow the stalemate, bowing to the winds, their roots are able to resist and not resist, tickle the air, suck water from the mud.
you suck water from the mud
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