Something's sinking
Something's swaying
Something's throbbing
Everything is spinning
In the right direction
First paper
Then oil-
Gasoline, maybe
Then melted eyes
Oversensitivity
Mind clearing voice
Ebbing, eddying
Sun captured under tin roof
Mouth swimming
Hands sunken
Their shadows dark to the
Bright in the corner
Confined
Incarcerated
Let me out
Pull the handle
Snaps back like a gunshot
Words fading in and out
In another language, saying
Happiness, here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem