I tasted your lips today as
A cold ghost of hope,
A grasp at unforgiving stone
While falling away.
I could make out the scent
Of a lonesome rose bouquet
Laid to rest on your lapel
As I sank deeper into Hell.
Can you hear me?
I am that voice that cries
For you to believe.
I am the electric taste in your
Mouth when our eyes meet.
My tears for you hide
Beneath a sad facade,
A broken surface,
The scarring of silk...
Your face is so faint
But your pulse is in my veins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem