I don't know why you worry
you said vaguely
the day I told you
they were on strike again.
And I chattered on
furiously
spuriously
consciously choosing to ignore
your shrouded eyes
as they smiled at me briefly
then slid away
into some fragmented past.
And a chill wind
caught my soundless voice
as I watched
your trembling hands reach out
and systematically begin
to detach one ribbon
after another.
Like umbilical cords?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem