Rectangular thoughts catching at my brain,
making me stop and find ways to escape
from the box of rigid living.
Oftentimes, pushing the limitations into
other dimensions, recalling the best
formations sitting, waiting for a
spectacular ending to a poem in dainty
lace-like evening particles.
Soothing me within, sleeping alongside
wayward events, missing from my intensity
of suffering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem