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i miss you poem

tous en baisse les années
peut-être
à partir du sud à la coupure du jour
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
ne restez pas plus
désolé et seul
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
donc je ne puis pas
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée

 



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