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family poem

basculé dans le berceau du profond
c'était l'automne de l'année
il raconte de bonnes vieilles périodes
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
j'ai vu que vous hunched et tremblant sur les pierres
si perdu
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
jusqu'Ă  sa fenĂŞtre de chambre
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
tout mon amour pour mon bonbon

 



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