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child poem

quizás
en todas las cosas no habladas de
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
la luz retirada
ahora mientras que están viviendo mis labios
renueve la visión del placer
raza alto-llevada
en y encendido
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
hace de largo la luz del sol del verano brillar
tenía un sueño y me desperté con él
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
algún se quejó al amo

 



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