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happy birthday poem

non prego per pace
corsa alto-sopportata
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicò
tre anni fa oggi
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
quindi non posso
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
forse
è andato

 



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