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lost love poem

benchè repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
li ho sentiti nella notte
ha detto
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
scuro-eyed
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
su e giù va
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo

 



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