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gothic poetry

il y a trois maničres dont les hommes prennent
le corps peut confiner
levé des morts
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
comme lui ŕ qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
il y a mille années silencieuses
vous entendez la pluie?
la terre garde aller de vibration
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits

 



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