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type of poetry

la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
le preghiere bianche piccole
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
rose ed oro
morbido come la base nella terra
dato che, se faceste una pausa oggi il mio lato
tre anni fa oggi
come come le stelle č questo il bianco, facce nameless
veda, rinviano
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato
in tutte le cose non parlate di

 



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