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narrative poetry

as montanhas são povos silenciosos
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
qual eu desejo observar
nobility da morte outra vez
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
macia agora a luz do dia
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
melancolia, azul era
talvez
pela costa, pelo mar
eu quero saber onde você vive

 



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