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writing poetry

sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
prenda i miei bracelets
mi chiedono dove sono stato
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
rose ed oro

 



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