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grandmother poem

musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
era muitas e muito um ano há
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
eu encho este copo
há três maneiras em que os homens fazem exame
você está desobstruído
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
a algum os deuses gordos
eu fui acima e trago as ruas

 



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