Tongue

I am never familiar with your tongue. Many words have been mislaid by my thoughts. Many tomes have come to my way and next they are disappeared. I work in books of your words until mine eyes are coloured blood. No better is the talk I make when we are encountered with each of us. What is that? Time not enough length for the mind I use? Your tongue enwrapped far from belief? I am made for continuation of trying though you shout sometimes towards my head and make its dong like a bellclanger. I still thank to you for my bed, my furnishings, my clothings from the marketplace, I need knowledge you have some sureness in this aspect of life together. I own no home expression. My memory is loosed and far gone. Mirror has man of tall growth but I am low here. Mirror plays speed games with the true. You find me in the road of this house with a wrong voice and take me on your board. Help is with my fingers then. You employ yourself freely for people who have drop bearings. The face you give out is often kindness to bring around change for more good. You say I must want search for life behind back. No, I will not see things in that nature. I have bed, furnishings, my clothings from the marketplace, yes? Yes? Those are more than full. I give your arms money if I am with company. I swipe tables clean, water glass or should it be broom ground? Broom broom, you tell for car that kept me awake. Now I sleep like tree under the night. You ask dreams from me. Certainly none of remembrance. You have animals with speech, many woman in air, shipping boats on road of this house. You have yours sincerely in electric bush. I buzz there, yes? The house behind back of you melt. Is this dream or really house? I forget. I ever forget. You laugh for my words, the manner of their escapement. Fun is made by them. I am one in many crowd, so you tell. Also yourself, I say after. Things have breath besides. Things to soak clothings, hot up, colden and music make, along besides many things else not told. Created animals do have loving and have happy receipt of warmness. Yes? Yes. Your parents arrive by week to eat. You burn up food and I put it to table with plates. Father arrange smile, mother give out kindness face as in you. She happy with my ejaculations. He less. He want spare man by you, other mirror figure. I eat small for this, no more for me, thank you, that was lovingly. You blink one eye to me in kitchen, I thank to you, I want that you blink one eye to me so on and so on. The balls of your eyes sweeten me and tender my loin. The glasses in house are plentiful for sun, moon plus starshine. I walk near and learn road to heart as attends bird singsong. Chip, chip, they push out. They in air, like many dream woman for you. I am easy? No, you see brain with me. But I ever forget and your father arrange smile less. You arrange never. You wet yourself when sad and shout towards my head should temper be unfounded. I make exercise with brain. I learn wordlines to heart and pass them for you. Sometimes you give me clap. This hottens my face and I am happy to be continued. For I not laze. I dust the dust and spray on furnishings for swiping, I bathe crockeries and I suck up hoover filth. I buy breads, milks and cheesies by the close shop, if you say. Ahead of us I will burn up food even. I make you hotten, yes? We hold ourselves well and with tightliness when standing. On some instances we move like such and that is happy.