Another poem

Was the wan alighting on the doors of hibernation \nHe came again, casual and murderous \nHe asked for the granting of his desires in a decade of temperatenesslessness \nOf sense whispering beside dismantled homes \nThe red freshness caught in the alfilaria hands \n modeling the playgrounds interchangeable true masks \nOver the ejection of bones into the sea \nInto a high temperature that melted like a internal-combustion engine gift from her meddlesome perch \nWas dear clotting almost the sick jounce \nA autocrat was overtaking every room \nAnd the weewee below the days of separated bodies \nHis disposition abandoned in the same automobile trunk \nVenturing among barred spaces feeling onto a adult female \nShe was moved by the malice of the instrument panel from passage to street \nWhat she could grasp was a blade and she amputated the senses \n perceive the c fastening suffusing the metal with clenched dentition \nCome to the borderline of my wilting bed, she ingeminate \nWhere have you bypast? \nYou were hunted from crumb the consumeing crack table \nHer rooter searched for the flaking red rust \nWhere she had turned and leave \nToward the hunger that pull her path some black puddles \nShe was haggard deaf, and the black puddles gather in the corridor \nThe sun was retching at the lock and she turned in awe of age guilty in the blossom \nEverything was make from velvet in the flower \nHis grow and petals reached for each another(prenominal) and died upon the touch.