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lost love poem

je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
je vous attends
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
la noblesse de la mort encore
exister de cygne
mais alas, rêves justes
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
avant le saint en bronze solennel
les ombres des bateaux
le merriment sans fin et idiot des étoiles
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage

 



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