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child poem

eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
mas alas, sonhos justos
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
glass-blower do tempo
esplêndido e terrível seu amor
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
sob a lua da colheita
eu sou o vento que wavers
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
um com você

 



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