Deep learning hurts my
brain. Can you feed your neutral
love? Where does the noise come from?
What arrows are made
of, straight in your heart. A grip of
tears dry up the blood and you survive.
You call me a burning
sky to bury the home of a twisted past.
I write my name on the water to be washed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I write my name on the surface of water... liked the line