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christian poem

era un oysterman giovane alto
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
come esso
scattando in su, cadendo
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
li ho sentiti nella notte
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
così caduto
truely
li ho detestati

 



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