tisseur de poèmes

Love you because you never be mine
I am old only my inside poet can love
When you are reading you accept or you don't
When alive in front of you you are feeling obliged
Love you because you are too far
When you are asked to come to the black board 
You are afraid of giving the wrong answer
See you will be a close relation
When dark in your room my fingers feel free
I can only write 
Only words sound like being here 
I am heady 
Eddy like a sheet in the wind
A wind instrument ,a paper bowing
My fingers playing the dark key , my night 
The white key your day 
The dressing gone
No need to get dressed 
Only my poems will ring a bell