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math poem

al lato di un campo raso
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piĂą in anticipo
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
non eravamo molti
babylon -- dove vado sognare
braided e tessuto
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
il singolo pugno serrato alzato e ready
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
non dal mondo largo di tutto
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
veda, rinviano
felicitĂ 

 



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