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prose poetry

un destello del oro en gloom y gris
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
tome mis pulseras
en su vuelo
por lo tanto no puedo
porqué tan es triste mi encantador?
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
oscuro-eyed
los pasillos de mármol resounding largos
él incluso tendría su broma
hay tres maneras de las cuales los hombres toman

 



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