Trees poems

Tonight I ask you in the light of a single candle.

The rice paper sliding under my wrist restless

The ink flows from my pen blue and silver

Tonight I want to give you a little bit of magic.

Far from the virtual highways and all these sequels,

Some tech-no polished car-bur�©es the nightmare of the adadsl|_
Far codes, pins, and passwords

Tonight Brussels vibrates in the paintings of its past.

SaSutton'she AtAtomico better gain momentum

Sufly he Maswimith our wings in time,

And it slips and it flat plane in gray clouds,

Suclimb�©niches the dock and the Place St G�©ry. _|Ry|_

Look, the pey whpreyats his cornet of fries sitting on a bench

The prostitute from the Gare du NorDuiNo-rdich cold

The tramp who sings on the steps of the Exchange

The taxi stuffed hunting, which is a race.

She is beautiful, my Brussels when the evening is done robe