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sympathy poem

abbiamo nessuno shame?
stuff della luna
la sua faccia č giusta e liscia e fine
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
sono il vento che esita
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
quando il velare dagli occhi č alzato
tempesta
la signora, il vostro cuore si č girata verso polvere
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
ho guardato sul cielo glorious
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
e come potreste sogno della riunione

 



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