Emaciated
Sending out roots
Connecting to the trembling
Of young hands
The hands that tilled the land
To the horizon and back
Midwest nights
Fall on east coast days
And stone chisled beasts
Split hairs to decay
Why grow up
To be so young
With arched backs
And suprised faces
Dragging knuckles
To leave boundries felt on upper floors
Midnight falls
When energy flees out windows
While the lonely one awakes
She follows up on boarded fleets
To find
Sunken eyes on satin sheets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sunken eyes on satin sheets. Beautiful ending image. Bring the entire poem together dramatically and emotionally