It's like leather on silk
A need to shield the cold
Desire to shed the sweat as it shows
The linen is the feather as odour reeks
The turns are old
So are the roads
We've all been here before
But we forget too soon
We wear our bones over our skin
And we coat the chaos daily
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wear bones over skin, fine one