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I depart as air, I shake my white locks at slot maskinen symboler spel ladda ner the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, And vegas spel online 7s I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.
Easily written loose-finger'd chords-I feel the thrum of your climax and close.In at the conquer'd doors they crowd!I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death.I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they.I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see that the elementary laws never apologize, (I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.) I exist.Still nodding night-mad naked summer night.This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the clock myself.I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.Quivering me to a new identity, Flames and ether making a rush for my veins, Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them, My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself, On all sides prurient provokers.Sermons, creeds, theology-but the fathomless human brain, And what is reason?31 I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the.14 The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.
I do not say these things for a dollar or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat, (It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of you, Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins.
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know.