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kid poem

truely
orage
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
l'obscurité
vous faites entendre
ne soyez pas fâché avec moi
en matins nuage-gris
j'ai entendu qu'une certaine princesse
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
babylon -- où je vais rêver
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
un mille derrière

 



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