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wedding poem

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
qual se mantem
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
como uma vela branca
estes sejam
e pão do breaketh mais
cidade que não é uma cidade
eu não queimo nenhum incense
sabe uma liberação barata
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
duas fileiras dos repolhos
a neve sussurra sobre mim
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst

 



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