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dark poetry

abbiamo nessuno shame?
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
alti pareti ed enorme
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
i loro capelli bei
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
parla non bene
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
ultima mezzanotte
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piů in anticipo
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
prima del san bronze solenne

 



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