as like to a womb that
bog improvised hollow in the
cemetery post-dusk yet
before deep of night
that hollow in mid-cemetery
that noble scar
and sacred
faded slow
slow
slow
as parallel-proportional
to the rising of the Dawn
and
the first lights
as like to a womb desperate
unwinding.
Unwinding slow…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem