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autumn poem

de foc pentru a se îmbrăca în gândit
ciudat de companie care a venit de pe picioare cârmeală
ultima noapte de lună plină stabilite o pânză albă de
vezi i dau eu de tine
pradă nu sunt de proastă gândurile
atât de pierdut
oraş că nu este un oraş
de atunci, fără
plecat înainte de-ne
o cu tine
mirosul a crescut atât de fals, de spini atât de adevărat
fiica, mii de arta de a muri venit
zgomote care să se străduiască să lacrimă
şi cum ai putut vis de întâlnire

 



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