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best love poem

pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
vous avez marche vue par le village
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
soyez patient, la vie, quand l'amour est à la porte
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
levé des morts
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
je suis une femme

 



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