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erotic poem

o alvorecer era verde maçã
o que era ele os motores ditos
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
se ele
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá

 



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