poem_2016

Shaken dreams this very night

To real to be a dream because of a cote

My infatuation has deceived me, then,

Her attraction has turned me in

I think of the changes in length and style

I am naturally hopeless and decidedly futureless

La vie is featureless, la muerte, nameless

Each of them has a troupe of cavaliers

To brawl and stonewall but

as long as the numbers are stable and reduced

It is not a competition neither a display

Nevertheless I want some figures of god

In the book of gardening

 

 

 

 

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