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inspirational poetry

não se aflija que sobre
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
a escuridão
quando você vier hoje à noite
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
glass-blower do tempo
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
ame-me no último, ou se você não
era não para esse cheiro singular
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite

 



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