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free love poem

puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
comme bougie blanche
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
levé des morts
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
affligez-vous pas pour l'invisible
ne soyez pas fâché avec moi
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
vieux vin à boire

 



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