You had the face
you love it much
greater than
the lips,
too much love
has kept you
in this prison
the arms are
prisons
and to get away with
all these
intimate holding
which you
began and all yours
alone to
hold,
you try to make
a horrendous repetition
hoping that soon
boredom comes and
then everything is
erased and
forgotten
when will that be?
you do not really
know.
you bury your eyes
inside
the darkness of
your sockets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
darkness of sockets. good write.