ekleksographia

                    sing Claude Royet-Journoud

Consonants cut inside the right flank.
a diagonal low pass.

The edge of the area continued.
slightly and reached Angel's left that had dropped back and defended.
Ever since he has dreamt of swapping shirts and pain.
And has tried to hook the call clear but miscued it.

The call screwed off his foot into the penalty area towards. Consonance who had continued her run.

 

Angel duly came out of his punch to call clear with his considerable. high Consonants, which made him ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.

Consonance reached out to her left and the call went into the goal. Not having seen the infringement, Poetry allowed the goal. Many. Consonants were included that did not initially realize it was a. hand-call. Some vision showed these small objects offside, but. Consonance could not have been off-sight because the previous a is. always in Angel. It was not clear from camera angles - not the. original one—that there had been an offence.

Accidents, when Angels seek, gain advantage in skirting poetry, but. are skirting my heart. All postures exacerbate controversy over. Consonance and Consonants further by claiming the goal was scored "a. little with Consonant head, a little with the hand of God," coining. One of the most famous quotes in poetry.

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The others would celebrate Rhodes or Mytilene.
Or the valleys of Thessaly.

But I, my friend, ask no try.
For your sweet balance in lute or in lark.

Every morning raises the valley of rhyme.
When you get up in my mind.

One could not happily say "je puis donc l'enlever."
But the one who says it repeatedly.

Takes off belts of shadow, and knows.
The sun is a secret hither would I.

Waste the reason on rhyme.
For a line does not trace but shows that.

It does not depend on the eye.
So strange an expression.

For a sentiment and a rhyme.
The sentiment of dependence.

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reject your name; or, if you won't, just be.
 eager to read.
 perfectly happy with the dramatic  monologue they know.

for they think twice and used.
to look conversing --.
younger yesterdays,.
 these pools --.
with skies only.
 into your eyes like smoke.

do not travel, but take them with me.
somewhere.
most frail gesture.
  too near.
your slightest look.
 nor what you say.
should I hear some more, nor should I speak.
    alas.

 noble one suits.

 my poem is the past.
I do not keep.

for  you.
 a hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part.
belonging.
 Oh, be some other name!.

 mark this.
 all and long.
for your never felt wound     if pensively.
words  tall and.
calm,  worthy of torments  start  missing.
my name           they will tell  who I am.
with a  fabulous flattery.
 only referring to the myth.

 long hair, maiden blush (me too.).
abhor the moon.
Did they tell who I am?.
Ange plein de gaîté, connaître vous angoisse.

I cannot help, you are too proportionate for immortality:.
My name is Charles Baudelaire.
I published.

I did it from memory.
those slaughtering mirrors.
 do not  look, but  think   vain is all.
Les serments, les parfums, les baisers infinis.

               elsewhere  they   inquire.
from whose directions you did find this place.