In the hours before our day begins,
A film fizzes over the grass
Where an invisible, shining goo
Holds a door that wouldn't shut.
A hazy quivering, faded trance
Overlaying a vivid song
Takes you back before your time,
Tingling from above—
Remedies behind the closet;
In a vent, outside your walls.
A voice said: "We're learning to feel...'
That's all it was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem