You feel like smoke inside my chest,
a burning I cannot forget.
You move through me like poison light,
too wrong to leave, too right to fight.
You come close, then disappear,
and still I want you when you're near.
It isn't love, but something worse,
a beautiful, familiar curse.
You stay inside my blood and bone,
a place I never call my own.
And even when I know it's fake,
I still inhale what you make.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem