The pain is on the left side of my chest
And runs to the other half of my arm
Sometimes it settles in my hand
I think I know why
On the left side is the woman who lives
With me
On the other half of my arm
Is another one
She runs to my hand so I may hold her
For all the days of my life
But I can’t I just can’t,
It is not simply possible
But above all these
The pain lingers at the center
Of my heart
Because I have not offered
My heart
Like a ripe mango, my heart,
To the real one
Who deserves it because
She came first
Before I have known
The meaning of lust
Forever she will last
And the pain is never gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem