Who Is The Girl?

Beauty that comes sporadically Every beat of poetry that closes is sadistic The puff of victory smoke reflects sadly The obsessive dim distortion is like the cup of opium A piece of paper for solace, - laughing out loud Window glass often turns into blood gold The gossip on the wide terrace - bad The thugs of the night make friends with a dull pen A man with a salt-scented scallop - revealed cramps The writings that dance along with the night cycle The girl who droops spoiled like a dim sky A dream of absolute beauty snatched away by a gray desire Being resounded by a pretty girl wrapped in a pink dress The poor man at this time can only surrender to the pounding of time that is lazy to beat And who is that girl….?