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sad poem

démontré dans la lueur vacillante dans vos yeux
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
laissez-moi être triste
beau
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
je tiens votre coeur
ce qui conserve
souffleur de verre de temps
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
améliorez que le granit
voyez, de cette contrefaçon de lui

 



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