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sympathy poem

la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
tressé et tissé
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE

 



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