since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are far better fate thanswear by all flowers. don't cry--the best gesture wisdom lady i e of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says we are for eachother: then laugh, leaning a paragraph and death i think is no parenthesis i sing of olaf glad and big whose warmest heart recoiled at war: a conscientious object-or his wellbeloved colonel (trig westpointer most succinctly bred) took erring olaf soon in hand; but-though an host of overjoyed noncoms (first knocking on the head him) do through icy waters roll that helplessness which others stroke with brushes recently employed anent this muddy toiletbowl, while kindred intellects- olaf (being to all intents a corpse and wanting any rag upon what god unto him gave) responds, without getting annoyed "i will not kiss your f***ing flag" straightaway the silver bird looked grave (departing hurriedly to shave but-though all kinds of officers (a yearning nation's blueeyed pride) their passive prey did kick and curse until for wear their clarion voices and boots were much the worse, and egged the firstclassprivates on his rectum whickedly to tease by means of skillfully applied bayonets roasted hot with heat-olaf (upon what were once knees) does almost ceaselessly repeat "there is some s**t i will not eat" our president, being of which assertions duly notified threw the yellowsonofab**ch into the dungeon, where he dies christ of his mercy infinite) i pray to see;and olaf, too preponderatingly because unless statistics lie he was more brave than me:more blond than you if you should sleep with a lady called death get another man with firmer lips to take your new mouth in his teeth (hips pumping pleasure into hips) seeing how the limp huddling string of your smile over his body squirms kissingly, i will bring you every spring handfuls of little normal worms. dress deftly your flesh in stupid stuffs, phrase the immense weapon of your hair. understanding why his eye laughs, i will bring you every year something which is worth the whole, an inch of nothing for your soul.

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