News has come to say that whatever the heart is Ayyah crazy, hes crazy than us The city of the city is a trunk Thousands of Hodge Eyes and phonemes. A train train if you take it to its wedding city a laugh to buy it from its auction Night from its eyes to the black color The moon sitting in the pond of his eyes Whatever the commun is and is not a walker Our turn is our madness I look at my eyes in the cup of his eyes The sonnet of my pride to his name The breath of my voice is the breadth of the resurrection If I give my resurrection
