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friend poetry

dicami non
era una bellezza nei giorni
fate sentirsi
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
ascolti il mare suonante
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
ancora tredici anni
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
per venire cosě presto a questo ha immaginato l'oscuritŕ

 



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