parallel lines,
curves,
dashes,
circles,
zigzags,
squares,
rectangles,
triangles,
thickness,
strokes,
big and tiny dots
textures,
shade,
a familiar and strange sound,
a rhythm,
a melody,
a cute smell, and
a tension in the stomach or in the thought;
all
are colored baloons
anchored
down
to a heavy metallic slate of memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem