Highest slow desire. Wanting every time. Break the black. Break what dies looking for words. The screams are believed. Beggars of old memory. Of recognized pain. On the knitted body. In a live of enthusiasm. Deep waist truth. Like calling those idols. With foreign lips. Of flares. They echo over their own shadows. Of love unnoticed. Like the you and you account. Just as memories. All memories like cemeteries.