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wedding poetry

ce qui conserve
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
ombres étendues le long de broadway
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
dans la terre silencieuse
je descends les chemins de jardin
comme bougie blanche
je suis fevered
ma mÚre me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
je suis las d'ĂȘtre amer et las d'ĂȘtre sage
fleurs des bébés

 



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