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thanksgiving poetry

les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
ombres étendues le long de broadway
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
leurs beaux cheveux
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
jamais dans toute ma vie
seule

 



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