Our salt on senses

I'm not sure if you exist. Not without parasitic thoughts.
Parasitic thoughts on a tireless quest for satire.

Intimate indications and disturbed rainbows.
Exhibition of some common sense by exhausted muses.

Kangaroo footprints in the desert tonight depending on the wind.
Flattering nonsense to late bloomers tomorrow depending on the mind.

Scented mementos from the spare shiver workshop.
Radiant matter of precision madness.

Possible confession of the repressive.
Real surrealists and surreal realists.