i must write you with a heavy heart
this heart of stone
blank, numb, gray, rough,
silent,
i write this at dusk,
there are yet no birds flying in the twilight skies
some boats are still there
but only shadows
i want to be completely stoned
to bleed, and be broken,
to be hurt by you once again
in this masochism
last night, you spread your legs, you hang yourself in bed
crucified in the ecstasy
of our love on concealed identities
no one sees us, no one knows us,
except
the angry God.
this morning, i see strangled bedsheets, off white,
empty glasses on the floor, stained carpets,
half open windows looking into the vast blue ocean
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem