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prose poetry

la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
abbiamo nessuno shame?
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
per verità, per amore
siete svegli?
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare

 



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