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short poem

i ca-l fac
când m-am uitat în ochii dumneavoastră
sumbru sub frunze de dafin
în camera de un vechi încetişor luminat
prieten, al cărui zâmbet a ajuns să fie
acesta este arsenalul
plânge că nu-l este de peste
noastre de momente placute zbura
o de unul, ca pleaca de la un copac
Sunt febril
nu mai e frică, am spus
splendid şi teribil dvs. de dragoste
dragoste deşi se plânge, şi un motiv freca


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