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wedding poetry

behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
era uma beleza nos dias
os dias hypocritic
a neve sussurra sobre mim
o dia é feito
em e sobre
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
ainda treze anos
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir

 



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