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black poetry

dialo
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
come livellare cade
scattando in su, cadendo
ho guardato sul cielo glorious
impaurito nient'altro, dico
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
forse è materia che avete morto
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
rose ed oro

 



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