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haiku poem

la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
leurs beaux cheveux
l'aube était vert pomme
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
vous dites que vous m'aimez
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
je suis le vent qui hésite
maintenant pour un combat vif et gai
hors de la mer de scintillement
voyez, ils retournent
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien

 



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