It is you
I am writing to.
To read it all.
Not to sit
supporting your face
with your palms
and your elbows
on the table.
So we can talk.
The words should echo.
The words should last.
Forever.
Like yours perhaps.
I am writing to you
now
and
I will write to you
again.
Tomorrow.
Vida Nenadic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem