I have a cemetary inside.
No fences.
Bodies are layered
East, west, north, south.
Legs and arms wrap my organs,
Squeezing sideways, lengthways
And diagonally.
Dates are heartstones
Chiselled in my brain.
They arrive unexpectedly,
Some from places I've not visited,
And stay.
It's crowded,
They keep coming.
I've flowers and meditations as well,
And sit quietly amidst the noise
And visit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem