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love poem

ao lado de um campo stricken
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
nunca em toda minha vida
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
macia weeping
três anos há hoje
porque
os poetas dizem
a algum os deuses gordos
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
sob a folha dusky do laurel
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias

 



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