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concrete poetry

abaixo do helm do guerreiro
nĂłs que estiveram
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
nĂŁo pendure nenhuma grinalda
no recolhimento da escuridĂŁo e pedem
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
macio como a cama na terra
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
eu disse
sob a lua da colheita

 



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