Premiers poèmes

Sometimes I come too soon Like I came to this world Or sometimes too late Like I loved you at this age

  This earth will grow cold, a star among stars and one of the smallest,

  Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful, It is like listening to the most beautiful song

I want to die before you. I want to die before you. Do you think that who passes later will find who's gone before? I don't think so. You'd better have me burned, and put me on the stove in your room in a jar.