Bearer of fine martyrs who love earthly paradise. Même us. And others and all. Before arriving. Suggesting elevation. High elevation mountain. At least we valley. Ignored we open the night; and she and this and she escapes taking her name from her abandoned and celestial gaze. Alta opens up to the ear of the word. Too far from blind, motionless eyes; to see the belly, its acidity, the fall down the carnal drain. In contrast, go up to the cloud. There is no air, no people, and no one who knows. But his question is: "What do you love me?" I come for that: to know; know my truth in your word. And exist. I avoid the nameless brothers who will be banished to the hard rocks; handles so that they are not carried away by the thick wind of the spicy sand, blinding on blindness, whip on impiety and harsh evil.
Sense, then ex-isto as a hypo/thesis.