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family poetry

Sie sind mein Begleiter
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
geheimnisvolle Nacht
der Körper kann begrenzen
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
süß und stark
folglich kann ich nicht
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
in den mournful Zahlen
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell

 



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