Poetry gave you happiness in the stench of the formless soul, the silent witness of the open south.I tied my chest with peaceful eyes on the naked side.The day never ended with the touch. I did not let the flow change,I held it in my chest. Not even a blink of your loneliness felt. Sometimes lightning flashed, dark. In the full night, I still kept the light on for you.Can you say, the touch of the lips is finished before? Even in the above composition, I am a cow. My life is full of greed.I am not well, my mother is not right.My life is full of sickness, as you believe. God's revelation comes to you.There is a wonderful mirror in your mind.I am a cow full of dung.So much does not come to the nerve cells of my brain. So I am a cow. You were in a cowshed, with a cow.
©xavier11
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