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baby poem

lor de păr frumos
o dulce solemnă crezut
pentru aceste arme albe despre gâtul meu
i atunci când mă întorc la pământ
zgomote care să se străduiască să lacrimă
ca un gol i du-te omule
acolo nu a fost niciodată un sunet de lângă lemn, dar
atunci când, plin de cald si dornici de dragoste
de adâncă şi de întuneric
de arcuri de pod roşu
printre fum de ceaţă şi de după-amiază de decembrie
să ne fi milă de cei care sunt mai bine decât suntem
pat moale ca în pământ

 



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