Come,
thumb through my open book,
crease the cover
with your greedy grasp.
Edit the wisdom offered within,
twist the words,
and highlight phrases.
Smudge the ink
and slant the even lines,
obscuring the space
between truths stated.
Self impose
interpretations,
then re-invent the imagery.
Draw
your swift conclusions,
fuel the fire and burn the beast.
I’ll re-compose
as the ashes dismantle.
You’ve only destroyed
what you’ve perceived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem