Thursday, November 4, 2010

2 Days Before Af Cervix Still High

Mordorée

The shades of autumn lull my heart with a sluggish languor.
Why things are so golden die,
crimson, red-orange?
Why it's so beautiful when it falls silent,
weightless, this award?
Why it shivers in the wind light,
still mild, the ultimate fire?
Why your base my crown, our blushes nuance,
in russet tones in a quadrille?
Why I cry, inhabited, dazed,
necrosis before that, this beauty?
Why so brightly, fragments?
Why such a vibrant backdrop,
To celebrate leaning
this decline?
Because this dress is perjury.
Swear, swear yesterday it's nothing, but worse;
that tomorrow, my spring
you abjures my empire.

E

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