to cut you've got to cut
quickly
like a slap
not much of a pinch
the pain is sudden
and becomes unnoticeable
leaving could be done
at dawn
when everyone is still asleep
when the chickens are
still roosting
there is no pain at all
it is that warmth in your hand
above your belly
which you feel
and then you wake up and it
is gone
no words are wasted
no tears
no promises when and nothing
at all about the why
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem