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christmas poem

aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
el mirar más allá
la oscuridad
y va tan
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
lo van
cuál guarda
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
había un strangeness en sus labios
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
él habla no bien

 



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