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daughter poem

há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
ao longo de um river-side
balançado no berço do profundo
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
disse
os dias melancólicos vieram
caras bonitas, tragical
renove a visão do prazer
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
melhore do que o granito

 



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