I daringly dip my fickle fingers
into a lagoon of supernovas
to discover a decaying dwarf star
tinging my palms with dead red radiance
The tips of my fickle fingers
slip further, I lose my grip
and carelessly cascade with the stardust
as rippling rhythms of astral resonance
revive the rust off my lamenting labyrinth
The ambiance blisters my bloated eyes
as palettes of color belt remorseful requiems
and redolence brushes the restless breeze
with tempestuous strokes of neon fluorescence
prodding my patina-plated visage
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem