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lyric poem

potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
l'alba era verde mela
il fratello, sono fuoco
non dal mondo largo di tutto
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
non ci è fuga dal fiume
come candela bianca
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
chi è il corridore nei cieli
perchè così triste mio bello?
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
vi ricordate di

 



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