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black poetry

je me demande où vous vivez
splendide et terrible votre amour
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage
du soleil ni des étoiles
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
calme en tant que que deuxième été
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré

 



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