It's as if you got hold of my heart,
and squeezed it of all I had left in it.
You might've drunk my soul's nectar.
You might've held my heart;
if only to discard it, stomp on it,
kick it, and walk away.
(Itajaí,15 May,2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem