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black poetry

alguns dos hurts que você se curou
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
eu sei não onde
na esfera
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
ao longo dos bancos
nunca em toda minha vida
traga-me a canção macia
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
acima do sul na ruptura do dia

 



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