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thanksgiving poetry

che cosa era esso i motori detti
uno sguardo è ma un raggio
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
veda che mi dò voi
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
il fratello, sono fuoco
così perso
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
era non per quell'odore singolare

 



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