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short poem

une brume entraînait une réduction
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
je les ai entendus la nuit
doux comme lit dans la terre
mais alas, rêves justes
améliorez que le granit
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
vous dites que vous m'aimez
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits

 



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