(unpublished) SEEK TO FIND THE WORD
even if sleeping in the open, between depths, I do not care, I support the painful finding when it turns its back door,
in your soul the flame of the gifts for years that it takes all
the shadows are waiting to be scraped by the yearning,
never touted the road enough to know how far,
like your kisses in the villages are full of gossip, I communed
few afternoons of sweet wafers of your breasts,
what to look to the sea if it has been wrecked in other meat,
now to undo the suitcase of a life would be all crazy, and decided
cloches sobornaré in the very death, while the nymphs alcoholic
sing their troubles better than ever, I do not fear for anything
empty inside and inside to call loudly,
at all afraid to dig my mind the same size as your body, and nothing
where there can only be unearthed live the sweet years of your name.
cloches sobornaré in the very death, while the nymphs alcoholic
sing their troubles better than ever, I do not fear for anything
empty inside and inside to call loudly,
at all afraid to dig my mind the same size as your body, and nothing
where there can only be unearthed live the sweet years of your name.
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