My Direst Ariel,
Word revolve in the flame and keep the coliseum heart alive,
reflecting orange sunken suns in the secret petals of ruined arches, yes the
glowing asbestos thorns and
whistling flame flowers reflect the cells of the scarlet heart and the coliseum
burns on, without a Nero, on the, on the brink of blackness. So words have
power to open Sesame and revel liberal piles of golden metallic suns in the
dark pit to be melted and smelted in the fire of the spring which springs to
fuse lumps and clods into veins of Radiance.
So Anja burns yellow dahlias on her dark altar of the sun as the
sun wanes to importance and the world falls in winter. Birds contract to frozen
feathered buds on barren boughs and plants surrender to the omnipotent white
frosts which hold all colours cruelly locked in hexagonal hearts of ICE.
My direst Ariel, artificial fires burn here down in Coliseums:
leaping red in the hearth of wineglass, smouldering gold in goblets of sherry,
cracking crimson in the fairy tale cheeks of a rugged Jewish HERCULES HEWN
FRESH FROM heaven Himalayas and DARJEELING to be sculpted with blazing finesse
by a feminine Pygmalion whom he gluts with mangoes and Dmitri Karamazov fingers
blasting Beethoven out of acres of piano and striking to skeletal crystal. We
love this music my direst Ariel between the pillars of the Antics Coliseums.
Could you remember of chamber music of the Bach? Could you hire the voice of
Anja which is crying for yours love?
Suddenly from the bad of mire we are ascend to astonish the
angels of heaven who kept the light on our love enriched in Ice.
Do you realize that the name of sessoon is the most beautiful
name in the world? It has lots of seas of grass en masse and Persian moon alone
in rococo lagoon of wood wind tune where passes the ebony monsoon.
Ask the Job, why is it our God so cruel, moreover just wait me
on Heavenly Jerusalem! But not ask Job today, because it is day…OF us!
I am proud again, and I will have the vary ring wealth’s of the
world in my hands before I come to see you again. I
only want the moon that sounds in a name
and the son of man that bears that name.
In beginning was the word and the word was a Sassoon and it was
a terrible word for it created Eden and the golden age back to which fallen
Eva looks mingling her crystal tiers with the yellow dahlias that sprout from
the lips of her jaundiced Adam.
BE my ANGEL! I am crying for you My Direst! Rise before my eyes
while the blues Marys bless us with the singing, and when, Eva &has
spoken^^from my lips will the resurrection occur?
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