When
I am looking for Eileen
And I do not find her,
My mouth
Retreats back
To my ancient cave like stomach
To hibernate.
When
I find Eileen
My stomach through up my sleeping mouth,
My head rises.
The eyes’ irises spread out
Like a green field
Over a white desert,
And my pupils
Expand massively larger
To capture the new moon’s light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem