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death poetry

le soleil et vent et battement de mer
mais alas, rĂŞves justes
je descends les chemins de jardin
j'ai aimé une femme
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
prenez mes bracelets
vous dites que vous m'aimez
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait

 



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