it is the intimacy
which broke down like a
second-hand washing machine
which taught you well
how to clean your clothes,
i mean, a stronger self,
a purer heart, cleansed as
always from
erroneous entanglements.
you study love so well,
like a string that binds
a pack, where you pull
and single strand, and
then open the whole thing,
as easy as spitting on
the ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem