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sorry poem

behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
si perdu
le parfum est venu
je la pense splendide juste
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
doucement pleurant
quelle chance spiteful vole des unawares
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
je suis une femme
composé seul du loveliness
ŕ l'aube, il a dit
un mille derričre

 



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