Our vision drops like pebbles and
pebbles
into streams
and there are holes in her shoes.
She didn’t know the rain would
keep on coming
but it did and now her thoughts have grown
damp and terrifically slow
like washing your hands.
Peach hued necklace nooses,
bulging eyes so morbid
I can’t even stand it.
I wanted a pedometer to see
how far I’ve come
but steps will lie with
loose loose legs and
rinds of lemon peels you sucked
and sucked
on rickity trains or rickity tracks
turning and
turning and
turning too fast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem