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sad poetry

ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
e come potreste sogno della riunione
quando venite stasera
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
eliminazione, lottante vainly
oscillato nella culla del profondo
cara moglie
amo rubare per un po'via
ho guardato sul cielo glorious
li prevedo
amilo in fine, o se non
per coprire il pensiero ardente

 



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