(strange rehearsal)

My brain is the belle gone to backward stars.

(room and proof)

My brain is the loose top lover left.

(sic silence)

My brain is the last siren offering arms against the sea.

(mile aims)

My brain is the nervous hope, holding.

(and was)

My brain is the tide we last afford.

(gone to blood)

My brain is the crook of a snake.

(wall told)

My brain is the lost paper movement.

(lots)

My brain is the good fight shy.

(sweet stains)

My brain is a turn of the roman machine.

(drive past)

My brain is the clumsy tenderness of the sincere.

(said cynic)

My brain is the bloom of mondrian romance.