here you are, a vortex,
and i am a point just below the line that runs
like a bridge
trying to connect us both
as though
we are one kind of a
connection: a telegraphic wire
a letter between two lonely people
or a chat
an email that has not been read for five days,
here you are, saying lots of irreconcilable
concepts: loneliness is a friend
a company
and loneliness actually is likable
like it is sort of a friend
who keeps me company
you are telling me that
loneliness is happiness:
are you sure? try going alone in a faraway island
and strolling along its beach
where a typhoon is raging
no seagull, the waves gigantic
the shore all crumpled
the sands all noisy
the abandon, is this something that is
a happy moment?
tell me, remember, the moment
once, when your heart was broken
and you are so lost
you cannot even pick a piece.
loneliness is loneliness.
i am running away from it.
it is a void. i am avoiding it.
but here she comes.
and i am telling her,
i am incurable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem