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birthday poetry

je me tiens par temps gris froid
c'était l'automne de l'année
le corps peut confiner
de nos endroits cachés
désolé et seul
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE
faible-envolée est la chanson
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
est souvent il pas aussi?
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question

 



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