Moon was blunt, guilty
knife cut his yellow one night.
Sorry,
I was just a rogue, so I
in your eyes stray.
I clumsily spilled the strange:
as a hot ball of snow,
smiling, wrinkled
hair, sore
of birds, flowers
of spotty.
Sorry,
always have to go.
Vetrove yellow autumn already crying.
Lakes-eyes.
The yeast water
coast cheek for travelleth?
always being nice at the beginning.
bit good.
bit sad.
always happens in this world
at the end of someone else,
end ugly.
I still have only themselves
and wishful dream,
incomplete.
Moon is guilty blunt knife
cut down a yellow evening.
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