a heavy rain at night
gives us
a sage for morning
it teaches.
this sage of a tunnel of trees.
a bench
in the middle of green
space.
i wake up this morning
destroying all itineraries.
there is something
more to
what i dream of when i am
awake.
i deny this body.
i flower thoughts.
i tend a garden of justifications
life is not a single line along the edge of a clean sheet of paper.
we are supposed to meet today and mend those broken segments.
finally, i send the signal.
Red.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem