the longest scar
on the face of a rose,
speaks with silent venom,
thunders when it opens!
a thousand deaths,
that love might live,
footprints that lead nowhere.
the bitter taste
of self, and empty...
the body plowed,
cries out for rain.
hungry, for more!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The first lines drew me in and it lead through the entire thing like a maze of gold. Great stuff