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love poem

eu ganhei a raça
quem é o corredor nos céus
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
levantado dos mortos
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
caras bonitas, tragical
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
eu tenho que dizer good-night
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
todos tragam os anos
sol e vento e batida do mar
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita

 



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