The metaphoric see-saw
(up, down)
A lesser version
of a stomach churn…
Up,
down,
Like a high not far off the ground
It, makes you queasy and
Makes you sway
It, makes you force your balance and
Move in a way
You can’t control
A victory all in its own, sure…
But to bring in a sharp wind and
kiss goosebumps on your skin
To bring tears to your glistening eyes
After being so dry
Is magic,
Magic,
Music.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem