Mounting surveillance
on myself after snapping
hyphenated bond.
I will set you free
from the white paper, carrying―
your beautiful face.
The slanting eyes
will haunt me in dark, I will
turn around and cry.
When did rift emerge―
while playing the moons? The lake
was ready to drown me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem