This poet speaks and
Her words slice into me.
Slow and tender like
A silken thread, pulled
Taut against the soft skin
Of a peach. The pain is
Inflicted gently without
Malice. Washed by tears
Slow and salty. The wound
Cannot close once the words
Have entered. They probe and
Swell. Expanding inside
Those blood- red chambers
Until they become absorbed
Into the very fibres of my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The way you have paid a heartfelt tribute to your favorite poet, is amazing. This is a beautiful poem. Please keep up the good work.