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flores dos bebês
dê-me
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
quem estará nomeando o vento
ame-me no último, ou se você não
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
o que nós fará agora
em possa
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
conseqüentemente eu não posso
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem

 



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