she
hangs on a violin string
violent
rings
round the circus tent
we learn to behave
in fear
once
in this grey charade
you asked
how are monsters made
here
in this lonely crawl
it's how we evolve
the soft pull of decadence
razors kiss naked lips
drink
in the emptiness
torn from the lung
i let all this pass
sift in the softer grass
let the warm light dim fast
a coma of rain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow that's a geat poem