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death poem

pensamentos através de minha cabeça
deixe-nos plantar
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
você ouve a chuva?
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
esse ano
flores dos bebês
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre

 



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