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black poetry

morbido come la base nella terra
forse materia che avete morto
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
sia paziente, vita, quando l'amore al cancello
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
il prato stava strisciando
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
non eravamo molti

 



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