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prose poetry

vinho velho a beber
eu olhei em cima do céu glorious
macio como a cama na terra
eu sou o vento que wavers
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
nós colocamos
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
esplêndido e terrível seu amor
em sua barraca guardada
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
deixe-me ser sad
cai aqui nenhuma luz

 



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