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baby poem

senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
dolce e forte
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
è ci qualcuno là
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri
da solo

 



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