between us
we must accept an
odd-shaped space
some irregularly shaped
walls
blocks of imperfections
inverted tables and
chairs
broken pieces of china
a black-out of lamps
a feeling of rough hands
between us
let us hold
all these forms of realities
we start from there
so we can survive
this slow
series of deaths
cries that soon shall fade
like a beautiful
sunset....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem