Morning found us awake and delirious
shocked and stoned seeing all of us
fit into the room
fidgeting with anticipation
our love-like farce
dies by slow capitulation.
stench of memories: fills my mind,
and my at the time
lungs
why did I do it?
a haze over my eyes; then mind.
A bomb dropping; repeating its crime.
innocence fleeting just months until gone
with mescaline we raced home to feign dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem