There you are again
with your face of winter
back rachetted straight
lips lost in a vicious line
eyes telescoping into points of ice
voice gathering strength
as it bites into my still pulsing heart.
Cold and clear, aiming
certain and sure
machine gun rattle of syllables
hurled into the space between us.
You hate me
and you wish me dead
and gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem