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christian poem

dans votre vol
tressé et tissé
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
vous avez marche vue par le village
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
gloom
avec la joie et la merveille
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
complètement des larmes
de nos endroits cachés
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas

 



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