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christian poetry

abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
eu penso d esplêndido justo
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
desolado e solitário
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
dê-me a fome
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
última meia-noite

 



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