The outside
can be many things
dangerous,
wonderful,
cold,
sticky,
warm,
painful,
comforting,
soothing,
weird,
and even perfect (for that split second of gazing upon a wondrous
phenomenon)
But it is mainly real
So I will take my smoke in the woods
look at the sky
and wish to die
rather there
than anywhere else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem