I can hear
Your threading pulses,
Your gravelly cries -
I can hear you
Break when the day
Shattered into night.
I can hear you
From here,
In a distance that
None of these fragile hands
Could seal
In the lull, melancholic
Blue, the strident nuisance
Takes the form of the
Stars, the moon
And even the flowers that
Failed to pry during
Nights of terror and
A hapless void.
I can hear you
As I pluck every inch of
You out of the harlequin gardens.
The Moon lavishly flows
Through your skin,
The stars coil inside your
Eyes
You’re beautifully broken.
You’re broken, beautifully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem