I laugh. I laugh, alone.
My laugh echoes back and forth
in the empty mountains within me,
empty rivers,
empty being,
of essence,
of existential decay,
of a nothingness enclosed by a body.
My worst enemy.
Because it drags, urinates, defecates,
eats, sleeps, talks, and worst of all,
turns still in an event called death,
and in time,
shifts into another happening called ash.
What then?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem