That Is Not Petaline
Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010
This world closes below, I leave cautiously full flower, be my preexistence anxiously expect, asp leaf is the tear that I await. However you, disregard eventually had gone. Be in what one ground fell behind you, that is not petaline, that is my broken heart. I am such wither, go to to death in me that is flashy, what I see your face clear go up is amazed, you hold my branches and leaves in both hands, lachrymal wet the one or two pieces making up the front of a Chinese jacket. That momently, I have a smile on my face. Before returning Buddha, my tear hangs down more than, long genuflect does not rise. Buddha hangs down head, groan. Are you still written down This is the lifetime on 3 unripe stone.