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sister poem

j'ai gagné la course
c'est l'arsenal
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
pour la vérité, pour l'amour
le pré rampait
leurs beaux cheveux
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
les petites prières blanches
simplement parlant
une brume entraînait une réduction
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles

 



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