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dark poetry

hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
y con el pájaro del tarareo
trenzado y tejido
tristes son que saben no amor
veo todos los ingenios humanos
ciudad que no es una ciudad
sé no dónde
estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos
la medianoche pasada
una historia muy notable esto es
todo mi amor para mi dulce
para poder ver cada lado de cada pregunta
hay una hora del resto pacífico
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas

 



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