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lost love poem

les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
effrayé pas plus, je dis
les poèts le disent
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
nos moments plaisants volent
pour puis en dehors
nous avons aucune honte?
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
j'ai vu qu'un dieu vous doutent de lui?
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait

 



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