silver metal as
soft as ice cream
resting thoughtless
on brown peach skin
cloudy fingers use
a nail to unfasten
and rejoin picasso
ashtray plating
strong, soft, supple
mother’s dream
calves follow upward
the floor seems to
fall saddened when
the angel starts
ascending atop halos
on the escalator
sprinkling visions
& questions behind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem