And if one day,
our palms were to join again
and our breaths had
a chance, to entangle once more
I'd let our fingers seep through my rigid walls
to weep and meet like old friends
and remember old moments, and promises
that roam the emptiness of their deserted world;
It was a little hard on them after all.
- https: //quietlystaring.wordpress.com/
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem