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inspirational poetry

en matins nuage-gris
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
c'était l'automne de l'année
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
dans ma main je me tiens
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
élever, comme vent a soufflé
du plancher au plafond
passé persistant de thou
beaux, tragical visages

 



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