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pumpkin poem

le soleil et vent et battement de mer
de nos endroits cachés
nuit mystérieuse
Ă  l'aube, il a dit
beaux, tragical visages
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
la lumière retirée
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
hauts murs et énorme
vous êtes beau et fané
doucement pleurant
si perdu
je me tiens par temps gris froid

 



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