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slam poetry

ombres à ailes balayant près
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
je vois tous les esprits humains
tristement parlant
splendide et terrible votre amour
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je sais pas où
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans

 



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