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life poetry

elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
éliminer, luttant vainly
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
je tiens votre coeur
les petites prières blanches
la lumière retirée
chère épouse
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
je suis fevered
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse

 



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