mortar and pestle
crushed
the found things,
made a
bezoar infusion,
infused...
a minimal effect, if any...
humans,
they are
and
you are...
back
to
the place
where
tears
are
only
(saying
only
does
not
diminish
those
tears)
cried
for the
pains and deaths
of dogs...
make no mistake,
there is no safety there...
make no mistake
it is not easier...
it is different,
only
different...
without the illusion
it is
a fuller emptiness
the seeming comprehension
laughs,
winks
from the mirror...
avoid the hallway,
rather difficult...
I know, I know,
crouch, or pass by on all fours....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Really like it, a reallt fantastic poem, great write. May i invite you to read my new poem called, The beast 2.