This room
Heavily feminine
Antique white
Bare
Morning light washes
The locked drawers
Open
The windows laugh
As textures perish
All is smooth
Straight surfaces
But the drawers
Burst
Shy to the light
They cling to their insides
Black as birds
They ache.
3rd March 2007
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem