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math poem

eu gosto d
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
um com você
sob a lua da colheita
para a verdade, para o amor
sob a folha dusky do laurel
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
homem frio stern
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira

 



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